Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XX

           Leathhasnotalreadytoldyou?”

           “Mrs.Leathhastoldmenothingwhateverbutthefact—andherpleasureinit.”

           “Well;aren’tthosethetwoessentialpoints?”

           “Theessentialpointstoyou?Ishouldhavethought——”

           “Oh,toyou,Imeant,”sheputinkeenly.

           Heflushedattheretort,butsteadiedhimselfandrejoined:“Theessentialpointtomeis,ofcourse,thatyoushouldbedoingwhat’sreallybestforyou.”

           Shesatsilent,withloweredlashes.AtlengthshestretchedoutherarmandtookupfromthetablealittlethreadbareChinesehand-screen.Sheturneditsebonystemonceortwicebetweenherfingers,andasshedidsoDarrowwaswhimsicallystruckbythewayinwhichtheirevanescentslightromancewassymbolizedbythefadinglinesonthefrailsilk.

           “DoyouthinkmyengagementtoMr.Leathnotreallybestforme?”sheaskedatlength.

           Darrow,beforeanswering,waitedlongenoughtogethiswordsintothetersestshape—notwithoutasense,ashedidso,ofhislikenesstothesurgeondeliberatelypoisinghislancetforacleanincision.“I’mnotsure,”hereplied,“ofitsbeingthebestthingforeitherofyou.”

           Shetookthestrokesteadily,butafaintredsweptherfacelikethereflectionofablush.Shecontinuedtokeepherloweredeyesonthescreen.

           “Fromwhosepointofviewdoyouspeak?”

           “Naturally,thatofthepersonsmostconcerned.”

           “FromOwen’s,then,ofcourse?Youdon’tthinkmeagoodmatchforhim?”

           “Fromyours,firstofall.Idon’tthinkhimagoodmatchforyou.”

           Hebroughttheansweroutabruptly,hiseyesonherface.

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