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- Стр. 1204/1581
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She
fell
asleep
,
lying
there
,
her
hand
clasping
his
Her
last
awareness
,
before
she
surrendered
the
responsibility
of
consciousness
,
was
the
sense
of
an
enormous
void
,
the
void
of
a
city
and
of
a
continent
where
she
would
never
be
able
to
find
the
man
whom
she
had
no
right
to
seek
.
James
Taggart
reached
into
the
pocket
of
his
dinner
jacket
,
pulled
out
the
first
wad
of
paper
he
found
,
which
was
a
hundred
-
dollar
bill
,
and
dropped
it
into
the
beggar
’
s
hand
.
He
noticed
that
the
beggar
pocketed
the
money
in
a
manner
as
indifferent
as
his
own
.
"
Thanks
,
bud
,
"
said
the
beggar
contemptuously
,
and
walked
away
.
James
Taggart
remained
still
in
the
middle
of
the
sidewalk
,
wondering
what
gave
him
a
sense
of
shock
and
dread
.
It
was
not
the
man
’
s
insolence
—
he
had
not
sought
any
gratitude
,
he
had
not
been
moved
by
pity
,
his
gesture
had
been
automatic
and
meaningless
.
It
was
that
the
beggar
acted
as
if
he
would
have
been
indifferent
had
he
received
a
hundred
dollars
or
a
dime
or
,
failing
to
find
any
help
whatever
,
had
seen
himself
dying
of
starvation
within
this
night
.
Taggart
shuddered
and
walked
brusquely
on
,
the
shudder
serving
to
cut
off
the
realization
that
the
beggar
’
s
mood
matched
his
own
.
The
walls
of
the
street
around
him
had
the
stressed
,
unnatural
clarity
of
a
summer
twilight
,
while
an
orange
haze
filled
the
channels
of
intersections
and
veiled
the
tiers
of
roofs
,
leaving
him
on
a
shrinking
remnant
of
ground
.
The
calendar
in
the
sky
seemed
to
stand
insistently
out
of
the
haze
,
yellow
like
a
page
of
old
parchment
,
saying
:
August
5
.
No
—
he
thought
,
in
answer
to
things
he
had
not
named
—
it
was
not
true
,
he
felt
fine
,
that
’
s
why
he
wanted
to
do
something
tonight
.
He
could
not
admit
to
himself
that
his
peculiar
restlessness
came
from
a
desire
to
experience
pleasure
;
he
could
not
admit
that
the
particular
pleasure
he
wanted
was
that
of
celebration
,
because
he
could
not
admit
what
it
was
that
he
wanted
to
celebrate
.
This
had
been
a
day
of
intense
activity
,
spent
on
words
floating
as
vaguely
as
cotton
,
yet
achieving
a
purpose
as
precisely
as
an
adding
machine
,
summing
up
to
his
full
satisfaction
.
But
his
purpose
and
the
nature
of
his
satisfaction
had
to
be
kept
as
carefully
hidden
from
himself
as
they
had
been
from
others
;
and
his
sudden
craving
for
pleasure
was
a
dangerous
breach
.
The
day
had
started
with
a
small
luncheon
in
the
hotel
suite
of
a
visiting
Argentinian
legislator
,
where
a
few
people
of
various
nationalities
had
talked
at
leisurely
length
about
the
climate
of
Argentina
,
its
soil
,
its
resources
,
the
needs
of
its
people
,
the
value
of
a
dynamic
,
progressive
attitude
toward
the
future
—
and
had
mentioned
,
as
the
briefest
topic
of
conversation
,
that
Argentina
would
be
declared
a
People
’
s
State
within
two
weeks
.
