Мартін Іден

Chapter 14

           Hehadcommunicatedthestuffoffancyandfeelingfromoutofhisbrain. Ithadstruckhome. Nomatterwhethershelikeditornot,ithadgrippedherandmasteredher,madehersitthereandlistenandforgetdetails. 

           "Itislife,"hesaid,"andlifeisnotalwaysbeautiful. Andyet,perhapsbecauseIamstrangelymade,Ifindsomethingbeautifulthere. Itseemstomethatthebeautyistenfoldenhancedbecauseitisthere" 

           "Butwhycouldn’tthepoorwoman"shebrokeindisconnectedly. Thenshelefttherevoltofherthoughtunexpressedtocryout:"Oh!Itisdegrading! Itisnotnice! Itisnasty!" 

           Forthemomentitseemedtohimthathisheartstoodstill. Nasty! Hehadneverdreamedit. Hehadnotmeantit. Thewholesketchstoodbeforehiminlettersoffire,andinsuchblazeofilluminationhesoughtvainlyfornastiness. Thenhisheartbegantobeatagain. Hewasnotguilty. 

           "Whydidn’tyouselectanicesubject?"shewassaying. "Weknowtherearenastythingsintheworld,butthatisnoreason" 

           Shetalkedoninherindignantstrain,buthewasnotfollowingher. Hewassmilingtohimselfashelookedupintohervirginalface,soinnocent,sopenetratinglyinnocent,thatitspurityseemedalwaystoenterintohim,drivingoutofhimalldrossandbathinghiminsomeetherealeffulgencethatwasascoolandsoftandvelvetyasstarshine. 

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