Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

XXXVIII

           Shetriedtoreasonawaythisscruple,sheevenremindedherselfwithabitterironythatwhenevershewasinDarrow’sarmsshewaswherethegirlhadbeenbeforeher—butshecouldnotshakeoffhersuperstitiousdreadofbeingwithhiminanyofthescenesoftheParisianepisode.Sherepliedthatshewastootiredfortheplay,andtheydrovebacktoherapartment.Atthefootofthestairsshehalf-turnedtowishhimgoodnight,butheappearednottonoticehergestureandfollowedheruptoherdoor.

           “Thisiseversomuchbetterthanthetheatre,”hesaidastheyenteredthedrawing-room.

           Shehadcrossedtheroomandwasbendingoverthehearthtolightthefire.Sheknewhewasapproachingher,andthatinamomenthewouldhavedrawnthecloakfromhershouldersandlaidhislipsonherneck,justbelowthegathered-uphair.Theseprivilegeswerehisand,howeverdeferentlyandtenderlyheclaimedthem,thejoyouseaseofhismannermarkedadifferenceandproclaimedaright.

           “Afterthetheatretheycamehomelikethis,”shethought;andatthesameinstantshefelthishandsonhershouldersandshrankback.

           “Don’t—oh,don’t!”shecried,drawinghercloakabouther.Shesawfromhisastonishedstarethatherfacemustbequiveringwithpain.

           “Anna!Whatonearthisthematter?”

           “Owenknows!”shebrokeout,withaconfuseddesiretojustifyherself.

           Darrow’scountenancechanged.“Didhetellyouso?Whatdidhesay?”

           “Nothing!Iknewitfromthethingshedidn’tsay.”

           “Youhadatalkwithhimthisafternoon?”

           “Yes:forafewminutes.

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