Мартин Иден

Chapter 4

           Hesawheryearning,hungryeyes,andherill-fedfemaleformwhichhadbeenrushedfromchildhoodintoafrightenedandferociousmaturity; thenheputhisarmsaboutherinlargetoleranceandstoopedandkissedheronthelips. Hergladlittlecryranginhisears,andhefeltherclingingtohimlikeacat. Poorlittlestarveling! Hecontinuedtostareatthevisionofwhathadhappenedinthelongago. Hisfleshwascrawlingasithadcrawledthatnightwhensheclungtohim,andhisheartwaswarmwithpity. Itwasagrayscene,greasygray,andtheraindrizzledgreasilyonthepavementstones. Andthenaradiantgloryshoneonthewall,andupthroughtheothervision,displacingit,glimmeredHerpalefaceunderitscrownofgoldenhair,remoteandinaccessibleasastar. 

           HetooktheBrowningandtheSwinburnefromthechairandkissedthem. Justthesame,shetoldmetocallagain,hethought. Hetookanotherlookathimselfintheglass,andsaidaloud,withgreatsolemnity:- 

           "MartinEden,thefirstthingtomorrowyougotothefreelibraryan’readuponetiquette. Understand!" 

           Heturnedoffthegas,andthespringsshriekedunderhisbody. 

           "Butyou’vegottoquitcussin’,Martin,oldboy; you’vegottoquitcussin’,"hesaidaloud. 

           Thenhedozedofftosleepandtodreamdreamsthatformadnessandaudacityrivalledthoseofpoppy-eaters. 

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