Отруєний пояс
Chapter IV. A Diary Of The Dying
Mybrain,myreading,myexperience—infact,mywholeuniqueequipment—weretobecondensedintothatepoch-makingvolume.Andyet,asIsay,Iacquiesce."
"Iexpectwe’veallleftsomelooseendsstickin’out,"saidLordJohn."Whatareyours,youngfellah?"
"Iwasworkingatabookofverses,"Ianswered.
"Well,theworldhasescapedthat,anyhow,"saidLordJohn."There’salwayscompensationsomewhereifyougropearound."
"Whataboutyou?"Iasked.
"Well,itjustsohappensthatIwastidiedupandready.I’dpromisedMerivaletogotoTibetforasnowleopardinthespring.Butit’shardonyou,Mrs.Challenger,whenyouhavejustbuiltupthisprettyhome."
"WhereGeorgeis,thereismyhome.But,oh,whatwouldInotgiveforonelastwalktogetherinthefreshmorningairuponthosebeautifuldowns!"
Ourheartsre-echoedherwords.Thesunhadburstthroughthegauzymistswhichveiledit,andthewholebroadWealdwaswashedingoldenlight.Sittinginourdarkandpoisonousatmospherethatglorious,clean,wind-sweptcountrysideseemedaverydreamofbeauty.Mrs.Challengerheldherhandstretchedouttoitinherlonging.Wedrewupchairsandsatinasemicircleinthewindow.Theatmospherewasalreadyveryclose.Itseemedtomethattheshadowsofdeathweredrawinginuponus—thelastofourrace.Itwaslikeaninvisiblecurtainclosingdownuponeveryside.
"Thatcylinderisnotlastin’toowell,"saidLordJohnwithalonggaspforbreath.
"Theamountcontainedisvariable,"saidChallenger,"dependinguponthepressureandcarewithwhichithasbeenbottled.
