Літо
XIII
Intheforeground,hidingallelse,therewastheglowofhispresence,thelightandshadowofhisface,thewayhisshort-sightedeyes,atherapproach,widenedanddeepenedasiftodrawherdownintothem;and,aboveall,theflushofyouthandtendernessinwhichhiswordsenclosedher.
Nowshesawhimdetachedfromher,drawnbackintotheunknown,andwhisperingtoanothergirlthingsthatprovokedthesamesmileofmischievouscomplicityhehadsooftencalledtoherownlips.Thefeelingpossessingherwasnotoneofjealousy:shewastoosureofhislove.Itwasratheraterroroftheunknown,ofallthemysteriousattractionsthatmustevennowbedragginghimawayfromher,andofherownpowerlessnesstocontendwiththem.
Shehadgivenhimallshehad—butwhatwasitcomparedtotheothergiftslifeheldforhim?Sheunderstoodnowthecaseofgirlslikeherselftowhomthiskindofthinghappened.Theygavealltheyhad,buttheirallwasnotenough:itcouldnotbuymorethanafewmoments....
Theheathadgrownsuffocating—shefeltitdescendonherinsmotheringwaves,andthefacesinthecrowdedhallbegantodancelikethepicturesflashedonthescreenatNettleton.ForaninstantMr.Royall’scountenancedetacheditselffromthegeneralblur.Hehadresumedhisplaceinfrontoftheharmonium,andsatclosetoher,hiseyesonherface;andhislookseemedtopiercetotheverycentreofherconfusedsensations....Afeelingofphysicalsicknessrushedoverher—andthendeadlyapprehension.Thelightofthefieryhoursinthelittlehousesweptbackonherinaglareoffear...
