Спрут: Каліфорнійська історія
Chapter IX
Hehadforgottenthatsincetheaffairattheditch,LosMuertoshadbeenahometotheengineer’smotheranddaughter.
“Andyou,Mrs.Dyke,”heaskedashetookherhand,“inthisbreak-upofeverything,wheredoyougo?”
“Tothecity,”sheanswered,“toSanFrancisco.Ihaveasistertherewhowilllookafterthelittletad.”
“Butyou,howaboutyourself,Mrs.Dyke?”
Sheansweredhiminaquietvoice,monotonous,expressionless:
“Iamgoingtodieverysoon,Mr.Presley.ThereisnoreasonwhyIshouldliveanylonger.Mysonisinprisonforlife,everythingisoverforme,andIamtired,wornout.”
“Youmustn’ttalklikethat,Mrs.Dyke,”protestedPresley,“nonsense;youwilllivelongenoughtoseethelittletadmarried.”Hetriedtobecheerful.Butheknewhiswordslackedtheringofconviction.Deathalreadyovershadowedthefaceoftheengineer’smother.Hefeltthatshespokethetruth,andashestoodtherespeakingtoherforthelasttime,hisarmaboutlittleSidney’sshoulder,heknewthathewasseeingthebeginningsofthewreckofanotherfamilyandthat,likeHildaHooven,anotherbabygirlwastobestartedinlife,throughnofaultofhers,fearfullyhandicapped,weigheddownatthethresholdofexistencewithaloadofdisgrace.HildaHoovenandSidneyDyke,whatwastobetheirhistories?theone,sisterofanoutcast;theother,daughterofaconvict.
