Риф, або Там, де розбивається щастя

XX

           

           Thechild,Sophytoldhim,wasdoingwell;butMrs.Leathhaddecidedtowaittillthesurgeoncame.Darrow,astheyturnedaway,lookedthroughthegates,andsawthedoctor’sold-fashionedcarriagebytheroadside.

           “Letmetellthedoctor’sboytodriveyouback,”hesuggested;butSophyanswered:“No;I’llwalk,”andhemovedontowardthehouseatherside.Sheexpressednosurpriseathisnotremainingatthelodge,andagaintheywalkedoninsilencethroughtherain.Shehadacceptedtheshelterofhisumbrella,butshekeptherselfatsuchacarefullymeasureddistancethateventheslightswayingmovementsproducedbytheirquickpacedidnotoncebringherarmintouchwithhis;and,noticingthis,heperceivedthateverydropofherbloodmustbealivetohisnearness.

           “WhatImeantjustnow,”hebegan,“wasthatyououghttohavebeensureofmygoodwishes.”

           Sheseemedtoweighthewords.“Sureenoughforwhat?”

           “Totrustmealittlefartherthanyoudid.”

           “I’vetoldyouthatyesterdayIwasn’tfreetospeak.”

           “Well,sinceyouarenow,mayIsayawordtoyou?”

           Shepausedperceptibly,andwhenshespokeitwasinsolowatonethathehadtobendhisheadtocatchheranswer.“Ican’tthinkwhatyoucanhavetosay.”

           “It’snoteasytosayhere,atanyrate.AndindoorsIsha’n’tknowwheretosayit.”Heglancedabouthimintherain.“Let’swalkovertothespring-houseforaminute.

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