Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье

IX

           

           Justsuchaveil,shenowperceived,hadalwayshungbetweenherselfandlife.Ithadbeenlikethestagegauzewhichgivesanillusiveairofrealitytothepaintedscenebehindit,yetprovesit,afterall,tobenomorethanapaintedscene.

           Shehadbeenhardlyaware,inhergirlhood,ofdifferingfromothersinthisrespect.Inthewell-regulatedwell-fedSummersworldtheunusualwasregardedaseitherimmoralorill-bred,andpeoplewithemotionswerenotvisited.Sometimes,withasenseofgropinginatopsy-turvyuniverse,Annahadwonderedwhyeverybodyaboutherseemedtoignoreallthepassionsandsensationswhichformedthestuffofgreatpoetryandmemorableaction.Inacommunitycomposedentirelyofpeoplelikeherparentsandherparents’friendsshedidnotseehowthemagnificentthingsonereadaboutcouldeverhavehappened.Shewassurethatifanythingofthekindhadoccurredinherimmediatecirclehermotherwouldhaveconsultedthefamilyclergyman,andherfatherperhapsevenhaverungupthepolice;andhersenseofhumourcompelledhertoownthat,inthegivenconditions,theseprecautionsmightnothavebeenunjustified.

           Littlebylittletheconditionsconqueredher,andshelearnedtoregardthesubstanceoflifeasamerecanvasfortheembroideriesofpoetandpainter,anditslittlesweptandfencedandtendedsurfaceasitsactualsubstance.

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