Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

V

           Onthelatterpointsomeofherenquirieswereofakindthatitisnotinthehabitofyounggirlstomake,oreventoknowhowtomake;butherapparentunconsciousnessofthefactseemedrathertoreflectonherpastassociatesthanonherself.

           Whenthesecondactwasover,Darrowsuggestedtheirtakingaturninthefoyer;andseatedononeofitscrampedredvelvetsofastheywatchedthecrowdsurgeupanddowninaglareoflightsandgilding.Then,asshecomplainedoftheheat,heledherthroughthepresstothecongestedcaféatthefootofthestairs,whereorangeadeswerethrustatthembetweentheshouldersofpackedconsommateursandDarrow,lightingacigarettewhileshesuckedherstraw,knewtheprimitivecomplacencyofthemanatwhosecompanionothermenstare.

           Onacorneroftheirtablelayasmearedcopyofatheatricaljournal.ItcaughtSophy’seyeandafterporingoverthepageshelookedupwithanexcitedexclamation.

           “They’regivingOedipetomorrowafternoonattheFrançais!Isupposeyou’veseenitheapsandheapsoftimes?”

           Hesmiledbackather.“Youmustseeittoo.We’llgotomorrow.”

           Shesighedathissuggestion,butwithoutdiscardingit.“HowcanI?ThelasttrainforJoignyleavesatfour.”

           “Butyoudon’tknowyetthatyourfriendswillwantyou.”

           “Ishallknowtomorrowearly.IaskedMrs.Farlowtotelegraphassoonasshegotmyletter.”AtwingeofcompunctionshotthroughDarrow.Herwordsrecalledtohimthatontheirreturntothehotelafterluncheonshehadgivenhimherlettertopost,andthathehadneverthoughtofitagain.

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