Белый клык
The Love-Master
Mattregardedhisemployerwithgrieveddisapproval.
"Ifyoudon’tmindmyexpressin’myfeelin’s,Mr.Scott,I’llmakefreetosayyou’reseventeenkindsofadamnfoolan’allof’emdifferent,an’thensome."
WeedonScottsmiledwithasuperiorair,gainedhisfeet,andwalkedovertoWhiteFang. Hetalkedsoothinglytohim,butnotforlong,thenslowlyputouthishand,resteditonWhiteFang’shead,andresumedtheinterruptedpatting. WhiteFangenduredit,keepinghiseyesfixedsuspiciously,notuponthemanthatpattedhim,butuponthemanthatstoodinthedoorway.
"Youmaybeanumberone,tip-topminin’expert,allrightallright,"thedog-musherdeliveredhimselforacularly,"butyoumissedthechanceofyourlifewhenyouwasaboyan’didn’trunoffan’joinacircus."
WhiteFangsnarledatthesoundofhisvoice,butthistimedidnotleapawayfromunderthehandthatwascaressinghisheadandthebackofhisneckwithlong,soothingstrokes.
ItwasthebeginningoftheendforWhiteFang—theendingoftheoldlifeandthereignofhate. Anewandincomprehensiblyfairerlifewasdawning. ItrequiredmuchthinkingandendlesspatienceonthepartofWeedonScotttoaccomplishthis. AndonthepartofWhiteFangitrequirednothinglessthanarevolution.Hehadtoignoretheurgesandpromptingsofinstinctandreason,defyexperience,givethelietolifeitself.
Life,ashehadknownit,notonlyhadhadnoplaceinitformuchthathenowdid;butallthecurrentshadgonecountertothosetowhichhenowabandonedhimself.
