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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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- Стр. 177/241
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The
fortunate
sale
of
several
storiettes
,
some
humorous
verse
,
and
a
few
jokes
gave
Martin
a
temporary
splurge
of
prosperity
.
Not
only
did
he
partially
pay
up
his
bills
,
but
he
had
sufficient
balance
left
to
redeem
his
black
suit
and
wheel
.
The
latter
,
by
virtue
of
a
twisted
crank
-
hanger
,
required
repairing
,
and
,
as
a
matter
of
friendliness
with
his
future
brother
-
in
-
law
,
he
sent
it
to
Von
Schmidt
’
s
shop
.
The
afternoon
of
the
same
day
Martin
was
pleased
by
the
wheel
being
delivered
by
a
small
boy
.
Von
Schmidt
was
also
inclined
to
be
friendly
,
was
Martin
’
s
conclusion
from
this
unusual
favor
.
Repaired
wheels
usually
had
to
be
called
for
.
But
when
he
examined
the
wheel
,
he
discovered
no
repairs
had
been
made
.
A
little
later
in
the
day
he
telephoned
his
sister
’
s
betrothed
,
and
learned
that
that
person
didn
’
t
want
anything
to
do
with
him
in
"
any
shape
,
manner
,
or
form
.
"
"
Hermann
von
Schmidt
,
"
Martin
answered
cheerfully
,
"
I
’
ve
a
good
mind
to
come
over
and
punch
that
Dutch
nose
of
yours
.
"
"
You
come
to
my
shop
,
"
came
the
reply
,
"
an
’
I
’
ll
send
for
the
police
.
An
’
I
’
ll
put
you
through
,
too
.
Oh
,
I
know
you
,
but
you
can
’
t
make
no
rough
-
house
with
me
.
I
don
’
t
want
nothin
’
to
do
with
the
likes
of
you
.
You
’
re
a
loafer
,
that
’
s
what
,
an
’
I
ain
’
t
asleep
.
You
ain
’
t
goin
’
to
do
no
spongin
’
off
me
just
because
I
’
m
marryin
’
your
sister
.
Why
don
’
t
you
go
to
work
an
’
earn
an
honest
livin
’
,
eh
?
Answer
me
that
.
"
Martin
’
s
philosophy
asserted
itself
,
dissipating
his
anger
,
and
he
hung
up
the
receiver
with
a
long
whistle
of
incredulous
amusement
.
But
after
the
amusement
came
the
reaction
,
and
he
was
oppressed
by
his
loneliness
.
Nobody
understood
him
,
nobody
seemed
to
have
any
use
for
him
,
except
Brissenden
,
and
Brissenden
had
disappeared
,
God
alone
knew
where
.
Twilight
was
falling
as
Martin
left
the
fruit
store
and
turned
homeward
,
his
marketing
on
his
arm
.
At
the
corner
an
electric
car
had
stopped
,
and
at
sight
of
a
lean
,
familiar
figure
alighting
,
his
heart
leapt
with
joy
.
It
was
Brissenden
,
and
in
the
fleeting
glimpse
,
ere
the
car
started
up
,
Martin
noted
the
overcoat
pockets
,
one
bulging
with
books
,
the
other
bulging
with
a
quart
bottle
of
whiskey
.
Brissenden
gave
no
explanation
of
his
long
absence
,
nor
did
Martin
pry
into
it
.
He
was
content
to
see
his
friend
’
s
cadaverous
face
opposite
him
through
the
steam
rising
from
a
tumbler
of
toddy
.
"
I
,
too
,
have
not
been
idle
,
"
Brissenden
proclaimed
,
after
hearing
Martin
’
s
account
of
the
work
he
had
accomplished
.
He
pulled
a
manuscript
from
his
inside
coat
pocket
and
passed
it
to
Martin
,
who
looked
at
the
title
and
glanced
up
curiously
.
"
Yes
,
that
’
s
it
,
"
Brissenden
laughed
.
"
Pretty
good
title
,
eh
?
‘
Ephemera
’
—
it
is
the
one
word
.
And
you
’
re
responsible
for
it
,
what
of
your
man
,
who
is
always
the
erected
,
the
vitalized
inorganic
,
the
latest
of
the
ephemera
,
the
creature
of
temperature
strutting
his
little
space
on
the
thermometer
.
It
got
into
my
head
and
I
had
to
write
it
to
get
rid
of
it
.
Tell
me
what
you
think
of
it
.
"
