Мартин Иден

Chapter 31

           "‘UnderthebludgeoningofChance 

           Myheadisbloodybutunbowed.’" 

           "YoulikeHenley,"Brissendensaid,hisexpressionchangingswiftlytolargegraciousnessandtenderness. "Ofcourse,Icouldn’thaveexpectedanythingelseofyou. Ah,Henley! Abravesoul. Hestandsoutamongcontemporaryrhymestersmagazinerhymestersasagladiatorstandsoutinthemidstofabandofeunuchs." 

           "Youdon’tlikethemagazines,"Martinsoftlyimpeached. 

           "Doyou?"wassnarledbackathimsosavagelyastostartlehim. 

           "IIwrite,or,rather,trytowrite,forthemagazines,"Martinfaltered. 

           "That’sbetter,"wasthemollifiedrejoinder. "Youtrytowrite,butyoudon’tsucceed. Irespectandadmireyourfailure. Iknowwhatyouwrite. Icanseeitwithhalfaneye,andthere’soneingredientinitthatshutsitoutofthemagazines. It’sguts,andmagazineshavenouseforthatparticularcommodity. Whattheywantiswish-washandslush,andGodknowstheygetit,butnotfromyou." 

           "I’mnotabovehack-work,"Martincontended. 

           "Onthecontrary"BrissendenpausedandrananinsolenteyeoverMartin’sobjectivepoverty,passingfromthewell-worntieandthesaw-edgedcollartotheshinysleevesofthecoatandontotheslightfrayofonecuff,windingupanddwellinguponMartin’ssunkencheeks. "Onthecontrary,hack-workisaboveyou,sofaraboveyouthatyoucanneverhopetorisetoit. Why,man,Icouldinsultyoubyaskingyoutohavesomethingtoeat." Martinfelttheheatinhisfaceoftheinvoluntaryblood,andBrissendenlaughedtriumphantly. 

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