Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter IX
“Yes,”Presleyanswered,drawingachairneartoher,“yes,IfeltIcouldnotstay—downhereanylonger.Iamgoingtotakealongoceanvoyage.Myshipsailsinafewdays.Butyou,Mrs.Annixter,whatareyougoingtodo?IsthereanywayIcanserveyou?”
“No,”sheanswered,“nothing.Papaisdoingwell.Wearelivingherenow.”
“Youarewell?”
Shemadealittlehelplessgesturewithbothherhands,smilingverysadly.
“Asyousee,”sheanswered.
Ashetalked,Presleywaslookingatherintently.Herdignitywasanewelementinhercharacterandthecertainslendereffectofherfigure,emphasisednowbythelongfoldsoftheblackgownshewore,carrieditalmostsuperbly.Sheconveyedsomethingoftheimpressionofaqueeninexile.Butshehadlostnoneofherwomanliness;rather,thecontrary.Adversityhadsoftenedher,aswellasdeepenedher.Presleysawthatveryclearly.Hilmahadarrivednowatherperfectmaturity;shehadknowngreatloveandshehadknowngreatgrief,andthewomanthathadawakenedinherwithheraffectionforAnnixterhadbeenstrengthenedandinfinitelyennobledbyhisdeath.Whatifthingshadbeendifferent?Thus,asheconversedwithher,Presleyfoundhimselfwondering.Hersweetness,herbeautifulgentleness,andtendernesswerealmostlikepalpablepresences.Itwasalmostasifacaresshadbeenlaidsoftlyuponhischeek,asifagentlehandcloseduponhis.Here,heknew,wassympathy;here,heknew,wasaninfinitecapacityforlove.
Thensuddenlyallthetiredheartofhimwentouttowardsher.
