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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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- Стр. 229/241
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"
No
one
knows
that
I
am
here
,
"
she
protested
.
"
Do
you
think
my
mother
would
permit
this
?
"
"
She
’
d
permit
you
to
marry
me
,
that
’
s
certain
.
"
She
gave
a
sharp
cry
.
"
Oh
,
Martin
,
don
’
t
be
cruel
.
You
have
not
kissed
me
once
.
You
are
as
unresponsive
as
a
stone
.
And
think
what
I
have
dared
to
do
.
"
She
looked
about
her
with
a
shiver
,
though
half
the
look
was
curiosity
.
"
Just
think
of
where
I
am
.
"
"
I
could
die
for
you
!
I
could
die
for
you
!
"
—
Lizzie
’
s
words
were
ringing
in
his
ears
.
"
Why
didn
’
t
you
dare
it
before
?
"
he
asked
harshly
.
"
When
I
hadn
’
t
a
job
?
When
I
was
starving
?
When
I
was
just
as
I
am
now
,
as
a
man
,
as
an
artist
,
the
same
Martin
Eden
?
That
’
s
the
question
I
’
ve
been
propounding
to
myself
for
many
a
day
—
not
concerning
you
merely
,
but
concerning
everybody
.
You
see
I
have
not
changed
,
though
my
sudden
apparent
appreciation
in
value
compels
me
constantly
to
reassure
myself
on
that
point
.
I
’
ve
got
the
same
flesh
on
my
bones
,
the
same
ten
fingers
and
toes
.
I
am
the
same
.
I
have
not
developed
any
new
strength
nor
virtue
.
My
brain
is
the
same
old
brain
.
I
haven
’
t
made
even
one
new
generalization
on
literature
or
philosophy
.
I
am
personally
of
the
same
value
that
I
was
when
nobody
wanted
me
.
And
what
is
puzzling
me
is
why
they
want
me
now
.
Surely
they
don
’
t
want
me
for
myself
,
for
myself
is
the
same
old
self
they
did
not
want
.
Then
they
must
want
me
for
something
else
,
for
something
that
is
outside
of
me
,
for
something
that
is
not
I
!
Shall
I
tell
you
what
that
something
is
?
It
is
for
the
recognition
I
have
received
.
That
recognition
is
not
I
.
It
resides
in
the
minds
of
others
.
Then
again
for
the
money
I
have
earned
and
am
earning
.
But
that
money
is
not
I
.
It
resides
in
banks
and
in
the
pockets
of
Tom
,
Dick
,
and
Harry
.
And
is
it
for
that
,
for
the
recognition
and
the
money
,
that
you
now
want
me
?
"
"
You
are
breaking
my
heart
,
"
she
sobbed
.
"
You
know
I
love
you
,
that
I
am
here
because
I
love
you
.
"
"
I
am
afraid
you
don
’
t
see
my
point
,
"
he
said
gently
.
"
What
I
mean
is
:
if
you
love
me
,
how
does
it
happen
that
you
love
me
now
so
much
more
than
you
did
when
your
love
was
weak
enough
to
deny
me
?
"
"
Forget
and
forgive
,
"
she
cried
passionately
.
"
I
loved
you
all
the
time
,
remember
that
,
and
I
am
here
,
now
,
in
your
arms
.
"
"
I
’
m
afraid
I
am
a
shrewd
merchant
,
peering
into
the
scales
,
trying
to
weigh
your
love
and
find
out
what
manner
of
thing
it
is
.
"
