Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія

           Annixterstoodontheporchoutside,hisbackturned,lookingstraightbeforehimintothewildernessofdeadvines,histeethshuthard,hislowerlipthrustout.

           “IhopeS.Behrmanissatisfiedwithallthis,”hemuttered.“Ihopeheissatisfiednow,damnhissoul!”

           Allatonceanideaoccurredtohim.Heturnedaboutandreenteredtheroom.

           “MrsDyke,”hebegan,“IwantyouandSidneytocomeoverandliveatQuienSabe.Iknow—youcan’tmakemebelievethatthereportersandofficersandofficiousbusy-facesthatpretendtoofferhelpjustsoastheycansatisfytheircuriosityaren’tnaggingyoutodeath.Iwantyoutoletmetakecareofyouandthelittletadtillallthistroubleofyoursisoverwith.There’splentyofplaceforyou.Youcanhavethehousemywife’speopleusedtolivein.You’vegottolookthesethingsintheface.Whatareyougoingtodotogetalong?Youmustbeveryshortofmoney.S.Behrmanwillforecloseonyouandtakethewholeplaceinalittlewhile,now.Iwantyoutoletmehelpyou,letHilmaandmebegoodfriendstoyou.Itwouldbeaprivilege.”

           Mrs.Dyketriedbravelytoassumeherpride,insistingthatshecouldmanage,butherspiritwasbroken.Thewholeaffairendedunexpectedly,withAnnixterandHilmabringingDyke’smotherandlittlegirlbacktoQuienSabeinthecarry-all.

           Mrs.Dykewouldnottakewithherastickoffurniturenorasingleornament.Itwouldonlyservetoremindherofavanishedhappiness.