Отруєний пояс
Chapter V. The Dead World
There’sjustroomforfive,asIrememberit.Getyourthingson,andI’llbereadyatthedoorbyteno’clock."
Sureenough,atthehournamed,thecarcamepurringandcracklingfromtheyardwithLordJohnatthewheel.Itookmyseatbesidehim,whilethelady,ausefullittlebufferstate,wassqueezedinbetweenthetwomenofwrathattheback.ThenLordJohnreleasedhisbrakes,slidhisleverrapidlyfromfirsttothird,andwespedoffuponthestrangestdrivethateverhumanbeingshavetakensincemanfirstcameupontheearth.
YouaretopicturethelovelinessofnatureuponthatAugustday,thefreshnessofthemorningair,thegoldenglareofthesummersunshine,thecloudlesssky,theluxuriantgreenoftheSussexwoods,andthedeeppurpleofheather-claddowns.Asyoulookedrounduponthemany-colouredbeautyofthesceneallthoughtofavastcatastrophewouldhavepassedfromyourmindhaditnotbeenforonesinistersign—thesolemn,all-embracingsilence.Thereisagentlehumoflifewhichpervadesaclosely-settledcountry,sodeepandconstantthatoneceasestoobserveit,asthedwellerbythesealosesallsenseoftheconstantmurmurofthewaves.Thetwitterofbirds,thebuzzofinsects,thefar-offechoofvoices,thelowingofcattle,thedistantbarkingofdogs,roaroftrains,andrattleofcarts—alltheseformonelow,unremittingnote,strikingunheededupontheear.Wemisseditnow.Thisdeadlysilencewasappalling.
