Епоха невинності

           Hecouldnotseebeyondthecraving,orpicturewhatitmightleadto,forhewasnotconsciousofanywishtospeaktoMadameOlenskaortohearhervoice.Hesimplyfeltthatifhecouldcarryawaythevisionofthespotofearthshewalkedon,andthewaytheskyandseaenclosedit,therestoftheworldmightseemlessempty.Whenhereachedthestud-farmaglanceshowedhimthatthehorsewasnotwhathewanted;neverthelesshetookaturnbehinditinordertoprovetohimselfthathewasnotinahurry.Butatthreeo’clockheshookoutthereinsoverthetrottersandturnedintotheby-roadsleadingtoPortsmouth.ThewindhaddroppedandafainthazeonthehorizonshowedthatafogwaswaitingtostealuptheSaconnetontheturnofthetide;butallabouthimfieldsandwoodsweresteepedingoldenlight.Hedrovepastgrey-shingledfarm-housesinorchards,pasthay-fieldsandgrovesofoak,pastvillageswithwhitesteeplesrisingsharplyintothefadingsky;andatlast,afterstoppingtoaskthewayofsomemenatworkinafield,heturneddownalanebetweenhighbanksofgoldenrodandbrambles.Attheendofthelanewastheblueglimmeroftheriver;totheleft,standinginfrontofaclumpofoaksandmaples,hesawalongtumble-downhousewithwhitepaintpeelingfromitsclapboards.Ontheroad-sidefacingthegatewaystoodoneoftheopenshedsinwhichtheNewEnglandersheltershisfarmingimplementsandvisitors"hitch"their"teams."Archer,jumpingdown,ledhispairintotheshed,andaftertyingthemtoapostturnedtowardthehouse.