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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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He
wanted
to
be
affectionate
to
this
sister
,
who
was
good
,
and
who
,
in
her
way
,
he
knew
,
loved
him
.
But
,
somehow
,
she
grew
less
herself
as
the
years
went
by
,
and
more
and
more
baffling
.
It
was
the
hard
work
,
the
many
children
,
and
the
nagging
of
her
husband
,
he
decided
,
that
had
changed
her
.
It
came
to
him
,
in
a
flash
of
fancy
,
that
her
nature
seemed
taking
on
the
attributes
of
stale
vegetables
,
smelly
soapsuds
,
and
of
the
greasy
dimes
,
nickels
,
and
quarters
she
took
in
over
the
counter
of
the
store
.
"
Go
along
an
’
get
your
breakfast
,
"
she
said
roughly
,
though
secretly
pleased
.
Of
all
her
wandering
brood
of
brothers
he
had
always
been
her
favorite
.
"
I
declare
I
will
kiss
you
,
"
she
said
,
with
a
sudden
stir
at
her
heart
.
With
thumb
and
forefinger
she
swept
the
dripping
suds
first
from
one
arm
and
then
from
the
other
.
He
put
his
arms
round
her
massive
waist
and
kissed
her
wet
steamy
lips
.
The
tears
welled
into
her
eyes
—
not
so
much
from
strength
of
feeling
as
from
the
weakness
of
chronic
overwork
.
She
shoved
him
away
from
her
,
but
not
before
he
caught
a
glimpse
of
her
moist
eyes
.
"
You
’
ll
find
breakfast
in
the
oven
,
"
she
said
hurriedly
.
"
Jim
ought
to
be
up
now
.
I
had
to
get
up
early
for
the
washing
.
Now
get
along
with
you
and
get
out
of
the
house
early
.
It
won
’
t
be
nice
to
-
day
,
what
of
Tom
quittin
’
an
’
nobody
but
Bernard
to
drive
the
wagon
.
"
Martin
went
into
the
kitchen
with
a
sinking
heart
,
the
image
of
her
red
face
and
slatternly
form
eating
its
way
like
acid
into
his
brain
.
She
might
love
him
if
she
only
had
some
time
,
he
concluded
.
But
she
was
worked
to
death
.
Bernard
Higginbotham
was
a
brute
to
work
her
so
hard
.
But
he
could
not
help
but
feel
,
on
the
other
hand
,
that
there
had
not
been
anything
beautiful
in
that
kiss
.
It
was
true
,
it
was
an
unusual
kiss
.
For
years
she
had
kissed
him
only
when
he
returned
from
voyages
or
departed
on
voyages
.
But
this
kiss
had
tasted
soapsuds
,
and
the
lips
,
he
had
noticed
,
were
flabby
.
There
had
been
no
quick
,
vigorous
lip
-
pressure
such
as
should
accompany
any
kiss
.
Hers
was
the
kiss
of
a
tired
woman
who
had
been
tired
so
long
that
she
had
forgotten
how
to
kiss
.
He
remembered
her
as
a
girl
,
before
her
marriage
,
when
she
would
dance
with
the
best
,
all
night
,
after
a
hard
day
’
s
work
at
the
laundry
,
and
think
nothing
of
leaving
the
dance
to
go
to
another
day
’
s
hard
work
.
And
then
he
thought
of
Ruth
and
the
cool
sweetness
that
must
reside
in
her
lips
as
it
resided
in
all
about
her
.
Her
kiss
would
be
like
her
hand
-
shake
or
the
way
she
looked
at
one
,
firm
and
frank
.
In
imagination
he
dared
to
think
of
her
lips
on
his
,
and
so
vividly
did
he
imagine
that
he
went
dizzy
at
the
thought
and
seemed
to
rift
through
clouds
of
rose
-
petals
,
filling
his
brain
with
their
perfume
.
In
the
kitchen
he
found
Jim
,
the
other
boarder
,
eating
mush
very
languidly
,
with
a
sick
,
far
-
away
look
in
his
eyes
.
Jim
was
a
plumber
’
s
apprentice
whose
weak
chin
and
hedonistic
temperament
,
coupled
with
a
certain
nervous
stupidity
,
promised
to
take
him
nowhere
in
the
race
for
bread
and
butter
.
"
Why
don
’
t
you
eat
?
"
he
demanded
,
as
Martin
dipped
dolefully
into
the
cold
,
half
-
cooked
oatmeal
mush
.
"
Was
you
drunk
again
last
night
?
"
Martin
shook
his
head
.
He
was
oppressed
by
the
utter
squalidness
of
it
all
.
Ruth
Morse
seemed
farther
removed
than
ever
.
