Короли и капуста
Smith
Onthewhitesandsawhitergigbelongingtotheyachtwasdrawnup,guardedbyoneofthewhite-duckedcrew.Notfarawayinapulperiaontheshore-followingCalleGrandethreeothersailorsswaggeredwiththeircuesaroundCoralio’ssolitarybilliard-table.Theboatlaythereasifunderorderstobereadyforuseatanymoment.Therewasintheatmosphereahintofexpectation,ofwaitingforsomethingtooccur,whichwasforeigntotheairofCoralio.
Likesomepassingbirdofbrilliantplumage,Smithalightsonthispalmyshorebuttopreenhiswingsforaninstantandthentoflyawayuponsilentpinions.WhenmorningdawnedtherewasnoSmith,nowaitinggig,noyachtintheoffing.Smithleftnointimationofhismissionthere,nofootprintstoshowwherehehadfollowedthetrailofhismysteryonthesandsofCoraliothatnight.Hecame;hespakehisstrangejargonoftheasphaltandthecafés;hesatunderthecocoanut-tree,andvanished.ThenextmorningCoralio,Smithless,ateitsfriedplantainandsaid:"Themanofpicturedclothingwenthimselfaway."Withthesiestatheincidentpassed,yawning,intohistory.
So,foratime,mustSmithpassbehindthescenesoftheplay.HecomesnomoretoCoralionortoDoctorGregg,whositsinvain,wagginghisredundantbeard,waitingtoenrichhisderelictaudiencewithhismovingtaleoftrepanningandjealousy.
Butprosperouslytothelucidityoftheseloosepages,Smithshallflutteramongthemagain