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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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- Стр. 167/241
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But
Brissenden
was
always
an
enigma
.
With
the
face
of
an
ascetic
,
he
was
,
in
all
the
failing
blood
of
him
,
a
frank
voluptuary
.
He
was
unafraid
to
die
,
bitter
and
cynical
of
all
the
ways
of
living
;
and
yet
,
dying
,
he
loved
life
,
to
the
last
atom
of
it
.
He
was
possessed
by
a
madness
to
live
,
to
thrill
,
"
to
squirm
my
little
space
in
the
cosmic
dust
whence
I
came
,
"
as
he
phrased
it
once
himself
.
He
had
tampered
with
drugs
and
done
many
strange
things
in
quest
of
new
thrills
,
new
sensations
.
As
he
told
Martin
,
he
had
once
gone
three
days
without
water
,
had
done
so
voluntarily
,
in
order
to
experience
the
exquisite
delight
of
such
a
thirst
assuaged
.
Who
or
what
he
was
,
Martin
never
learned
.
He
was
a
man
without
a
past
,
whose
future
was
the
imminent
grave
and
whose
present
was
a
bitter
fever
of
living
.
Martin
was
steadily
losing
his
battle
.
Economize
as
he
would
,
the
earnings
from
hack
-
work
did
not
balance
expenses
.
Thanksgiving
found
him
with
his
black
suit
in
pawn
and
unable
to
accept
the
Morses
’
invitation
to
dinner
.
Ruth
was
not
made
happy
by
his
reason
for
not
coming
,
and
the
corresponding
effect
on
him
was
one
of
desperation
.
He
told
her
that
he
would
come
,
after
all
;
that
he
would
go
over
to
San
Francisco
,
to
the
Transcontinental
office
,
collect
the
five
dollars
due
him
,
and
with
it
redeem
his
suit
of
clothes
.
In
the
morning
he
borrowed
ten
cents
from
Maria
.
He
would
have
borrowed
it
,
by
preference
,
from
Brissenden
,
but
that
erratic
individual
had
disappeared
.
Two
weeks
had
passed
since
Martin
had
seen
him
,
and
he
vainly
cudgelled
his
brains
for
some
cause
of
offence
.
The
ten
cents
carried
Martin
across
the
ferry
to
San
Francisco
,
and
as
he
walked
up
Market
Street
he
speculated
upon
his
predicament
in
case
he
failed
to
collect
the
money
.
There
would
then
be
no
way
for
him
to
return
to
Oakland
,
and
he
knew
no
one
in
San
Francisco
from
whom
to
borrow
another
ten
cents
.
The
door
to
the
Transcontinental
office
was
ajar
,
and
Martin
,
in
the
act
of
opening
it
,
was
brought
to
a
sudden
pause
by
a
loud
voice
from
within
,
which
exclaimed
:
-
"
But
that
is
not
the
question
,
Mr
.
Ford
.
"
(
Ford
,
Martin
knew
,
from
his
correspondence
,
to
be
the
editor
’
s
name
.
)
"
The
question
is
,
are
you
prepared
to
pay
?
—
cash
,
and
cash
down
,
I
mean
?
I
am
not
interested
in
the
prospects
of
the
Transcontinental
and
what
you
expect
to
make
it
next
year
.
What
I
want
is
to
be
paid
for
what
I
do
.
And
I
tell
you
,
right
now
,
the
Christmas
Transcontinental
don
’
t
go
to
press
till
I
have
the
money
in
my
hand
.
Good
day
.
When
you
get
the
money
,
come
and
see
me
.
"
The
door
jerked
open
,
and
the
man
flung
past
Martin
,
with
an
angry
countenance
and
went
down
the
corridor
,
muttering
curses
and
clenching
his
fists
.
Martin
decided
not
to
enter
immediately
,
and
lingered
in
the
hallways
for
a
quarter
of
an
hour
.
Then
he
shoved
the
door
open
and
walked
in
.
It
was
a
new
experience
,
the
first
time
he
had
been
inside
an
editorial
office
.
Cards
evidently
were
not
necessary
in
that
office
,
for
the
boy
carried
word
to
an
inner
room
that
there
was
a
man
who
wanted
to
see
Mr
.
Ford
.
Returning
,
the
boy
beckoned
him
from
halfway
across
the
room
and
led
him
to
the
private
office
,
the
editorial
sanctum
.
Martin
’
s
first
impression
was
of
the
disorder
and
cluttered
confusion
of
the
room
.
Next
he
noticed
a
bewhiskered
,
youthful
-
looking
man
,
sitting
at
a
roll
-
top
desk
,
who
regarded
him
curiously
.
Martin
marvelled
at
the
calm
repose
of
his
face
.
It
was
evident
that
the
squabble
with
the
printer
had
not
affected
his
equanimity
.
"
I
—
I
am
Martin
Eden
,
"
Martin
began
the
conversation
.
(
"
And
I
want
my
five
dollars
,
"
was
what
he
would
have
liked
to
say
.
)
But
this
was
his
first
editor
,
and
under
the
circumstances
he
did
not
desire
to
scare
him
too
abruptly
.
To
his
surprise
,
Mr
.
Ford
leaped
into
the
air
with
a
"
You
don
’
t
say
so
!
"
and
the
next
moment
,
with
both
hands
,
was
shaking
Martin
’
s
hand
effusively
.
"
Can
’
t
say
how
glad
I
am
to
see
you
,
Mr
.
Eden
.
Often
wondered
what
you
were
like
.
"
Here
he
held
Martin
off
at
arm
’
s
length
and
ran
his
beaming
eyes
over
Martin
’
s
second
-
best
suit
,
which
was
also
his
worst
suit
,
and
which
was
ragged
and
past
repair
,
though
the
trousers
showed
the
careful
crease
he
had
put
in
with
Maria
’
s
flat
-
irons
.
