Риф, або Там, де розбивається щастя

XII

           Thehalldoorstoodwide,andthroughthewindowsopeningontheterracethesunslantedacrosstheblackandwhitefloor,thefadedtapestrychairs,andDarrow’stravellingcoatandcap,whichlayamongthecloaksandrugspiledonabenchagainstthewall.

           Thesightofthesegarments,lyingamongherownwraps,gaveherasenseofhomelyintimacy.Itwasasifherhappinesscamedownfromtheskiesandtookontheplaindressofdailythings.Atlastsheseemedtoholditinherhand.

           Astheyenteredthehallhereyelitonanunstampednoteconspicuouslyplacedonthetable.

           “FromOwen!Hemusthaverushedoffsomewhereinthemotor.”

           ShefeltasecretstirofpleasureattheimmediateinferencethatsheandDarrowwouldprobablylunchalone.Thensheopenedthenoteandstaredatitinwonder.

           “Dear,”Owenwrote,“afterwhatyousaidyesterdayIcan’twaitanotherhour,andI’mofftoFrancheuil,tocatchtheDijonexpressandtravelbackwiththem.Don’tbefrightened;Iwon’tspeakunlessit’ssafeto.Trustmeforthat—butIhadtogo.”

           Shelookedupslowly.

           “He’sgonetoDijontomeethisgrandmother.Oh,IhopeIhaven’tmadeamistake!”

           “You?Why,whathaveyoutodowithhisgoingtoDijon?”

           Shehesitated.“ThedaybeforeyesterdayItoldhim,forthefirsttime,thatImeanttoseehimthrough,nomatterwhathappened.AndI’mafraidhe’slosthishead,andwillbeimprudentandspoilthings.Yousee,Ihadn’tmeanttosayawordtohimtillI’dhadtimetoprepareMadamedeChantelle.

Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 126 з 369