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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Затерянный мир
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- Стр. 135/139
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No
letter
or
telegram
had
come
to
me
at
Southampton
,
and
I
reached
the
little
villa
at
Streatham
about
ten
o'clock
that
night
in
a
fever
of
alarm
.
Was
she
dead
or
alive
?
Where
were
all
my
nightly
dreams
of
the
open
arms
,
the
smiling
face
,
the
words
of
praise
for
her
man
who
had
risked
his
life
to
humor
her
whim
?
Already
I
was
down
from
the
high
peaks
and
standing
flat-footed
upon
earth
.
Yet
some
good
reasons
given
might
still
lift
me
to
the
clouds
once
more
.
I
rushed
down
the
garden
path
,
hammered
at
the
door
,
heard
the
voice
of
Gladys
within
,
pushed
past
the
staring
maid
,
and
strode
into
the
sitting-room
.
She
was
seated
in
a
low
settee
under
the
shaded
standard
lamp
by
the
piano
.
In
three
steps
I
was
across
the
room
and
had
both
her
hands
in
mine
.
"
Gladys
!
"
I
cried
,
"
Gladys
!
"
She
looked
up
with
amazement
in
her
face
.
She
was
altered
in
some
subtle
way
.
The
expression
of
her
eyes
,
the
hard
upward
stare
,
the
set
of
the
lips
,
was
new
to
me
.
She
drew
back
her
hands
.
"
What
do
you
mean
?
"
she
said
.
"
Gladys
!
"
I
cried
.
"
What
is
the
matter
?
You
are
my
Gladys
,
are
you
not
--
little
Gladys
Hungerton
?
"
"
No
,
"
said
she
,
"
I
am
Gladys
Potts
.
Let
me
introduce
you
to
my
husband
.
"
How
absurd
life
is
!
I
found
myself
mechanically
bowing
and
shaking
hands
with
a
little
ginger-haired
man
who
was
coiled
up
in
the
deep
arm-chair
which
had
once
been
sacred
to
my
own
use
.
We
bobbed
and
grinned
in
front
of
each
other
.
"
Father
lets
us
stay
here
.
We
are
getting
our
house
ready
,
"
said
Gladys
.
"
Oh
,
yes
,
"
said
I.
"
You
did
n't
get
my
letter
at
Para
,
then
?
"
