Біла пташка
The Last of Timothy
SoIskulkedneartheshopofthelittlegarments,jeeringatmyself,anditwasstrangetometoreflectat,say,threeo’clockthatifIhadbeenbrazenathalf-pasttwoallwouldnowbeover.
Toshowwhatwasmystate,takethecaseoftheverygentleman-likemanwhomIdetectedgazingfixedlyatme,orsoIthought,justasIhaddrawnvaliantlynearthedoor.Isaunteredaway,butwhenIreturnedhewasstillthere,whichseemedconclusiveproofthathehadsmokedmypurpose.SternlycontrollingmytemperIbowed,andsaidwithicypoliteness,“Youhavetheadvantageofme,sir.”
“Ibegyourpardon,”saidhe,andIamnowpersuadedthatmywordsturnedhisattentiontomeforthefirsttime,butatthemomentIwassuresomeimpertinentmeaninglurkedbehindhisanswer.
“Ihavenotthepleasureofyouracquaintance,”Ibarked.
“NooneregretsitmorethanIdo,”hereplied,laughing.
“Imean,sir,”saidI,“thatIshallwaithereuntilyouretire,”andwiththatIputmybacktoashop-window.
Bythistimehewasgrownangry,andsaidhe,“Ihavenoengagement,”andheputhisbacktotheshop-window.Eachofuswasdoggedlydeterminedtotiretheotherout,andwemusthavelookedridiculous.Wealsofeltit,fortenminutesafterward,ourpassionshavingdiedaway,weshookhandscordiallyandagreedtocallhansoms.
MustIabandontheenterprise?CertainlyIknewdiversladieswhowouldmakethepurchasesforme,butfirstImustexplain,and,ratherthanexplainithaseverbeenmycustomtodowithout.IwasinthisdespondencywhenasuddenrecollectionofIreneandMrs
