Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XVII

           Hisglancestrayeddownthegold-roofedwindingsaheadofthem.“It’sdelightful:youcouldn’tbebetterplaced.OnlyIwonderalittleatyourhavingsocompletelygivenupanyideaofadifferentfuture.”

           Shewaitedforamomentbeforeanswering:“IsupposeI’mlessrestlessthanIusedtobe.”

           “It’scertainlynaturalthatyoushouldbelessrestlessherethanatMrs.Murrett’s;yetsomehowIdon’tseemtoseeyoupermanentlygivenuptoformingtheyoung.”

           “What—exactly—DOyouseemtoseemepermanentlygivenupto?Youknowyouwarnedmeratheremphaticallyagainstthetheatre.”Shethrewoffthestatementwithoutimpatience,asthoughtheywerediscussingtogetherthefateofathirdpersoninwhombothwerebenevolentlyinterested.Darrowconsideredhisreply.“IfIdid,itwasbecauseyousoemphaticallyrefusedtoletmehelpyoutoastart.”

           Shestoppedshortandfacedhim“AndyouthinkImayletyounow?”

           Darrowfeltthebloodinhischeek.Hecouldnotunderstandherattitude—ifindeedshehadconsciouslytakenone,andherchangesoftonedidnotmerelyreflecttheinvoluntaryalternationsofhermood.Ithumbledhimtoperceiveoncemorehowlittlehehadtoguidehiminhisjudgmentofher.Hesaidtohimself:“IfI’devercaredastrawforherIshouldknowhowtoavoidhurtinghernow”—andhisinsensibilitystruckhimasnobetterthanavulgarobtuseness.Buthehadafixedpurposeaheadandcouldonlypushontoit.

           “Ihope,atanyrate,you’lllistentomyreasons.

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