Сестра Керри

Chapter XV. The Irk Of The Old Ties: The Magic Of Youth

           Hedidnotconsideritpolicytocallanymore,evenwhenDrouetwasathome.

           Thenextafternoonhewasintheprettylittleparkbyone,andhadfoundarusticbenchbeneaththegreenleavesofalilacbushwhichborderedoneofthepaths.Itwasatthatseasonoftheyearwhenthefulnessofspringhadnotyetwornquiteaway.Atalittlepondnearbysomecleanlydressedchildrenweresailingwhitecanvasboats.Intheshadeofagreenpagodaabebuttonedofficerofthelawwasresting,hisarmsfolded,hisclubatrestinhisbelt.Anoldgardenerwasuponthelawn,withapairofpruningshears,lookingaftersomebushes.Highoverheadwasthecleanblueskyofthenewsummer,andinthethicknessoftheshinygreenleavesofthetreeshoppedandtwitteredthebusysparrows.

           Hurstwoodhadcomeoutofhisownhomethatmorningfeelingmuchofthesameoldannoyance.Athisstorehehadidled,therebeingnoneedtowrite.Hehadcomeawaytothisplacewiththelightnessofheartwhichcharacterisesthosewhoputwearinessbehind.Now,intheshadeofthiscool,greenbush,helookedabouthimwiththefancyofthelover.Heheardthecartsgolumberingbyupontheneighbouringstreets,buttheywerefaroff,andonlybuzzeduponhisear.Thehumofthesurroundingcitywasfaint,theclangofanoccasionalbellwasasmusic.Helookedanddreamedanewdreamofpleasurewhichconcernedhispresentfixedconditionnotatall.HegotbackinfancytotheoldHurstwood,whowasneithermarriednorfixedinasolidpositionforlife.

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