Поющие в терновнике

           Theroom,theredmen!NeverinallherlifehadJustinebeensoconsciousoftheredundancyofwomeninthelivesofsomemenasatthatmoment,walkingintoaworldwherewomensimplyhadnoplaceexceptashumblenunservants.Shewasstillintheolive-greenlinensuitshehadputonoutsideTurin,rathercrumpledfromthetrain,andsheadvancedacrossthesoftcrimsoncarpetcursingDane’seagernesstobethere,wishingshehadinsistedondonningsomethinglesstravel-marked.

           CardinaldeBricassartwasonhisfeet,smiling;whatahandsomeoldmanhewas.

           "MydearJustine,"hesaid,extendinghisringwithawickedlookwhichindicatedhewellrememberedthelasttime,andsearchingherfaceforsomethingshedidn’tunderstand."Youdon’tlookatalllikeyourmother."

           Downononeknee,kissthering,smilehumbly,getup,smilelesshumbly."No,Idon’t,doI?Icouldhavedonewithherbeautyinmychosenprofession,butonastageImanage.Becauseithasnothingtodowithwhatthefaceactuallyis,youknow.It’swhatyouandyourartcanconvincepeoplethefaceis."

           Adrychucklecamefromachair;oncemoreshetrodtosalutearingonanagingwormyhand,butthistimeshelookedupintodarkeyes,andstrangelyinthemsawlove.Loveforher,forsomeonehehadneverseen,couldscarcelyhaveheardmentioned.Butitwasthere.Shedidn’tlikeCardinaldeBricassartanymorenowthanshehadatfifteen,butshewarmedtothisoldman.

           "Sitdown,mydear,"saidCardinalVittorio,hishandindicatingthechairnexttohim.