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- Джек Лондон
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- Мартин Иден
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- Стр. 230/241
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She
withdrew
herself
from
his
arms
,
sat
upright
,
and
looked
at
him
long
and
searchingly
.
She
was
about
to
speak
,
then
faltered
and
changed
her
mind
.
"
You
see
,
it
appears
this
way
to
me
,
"
he
went
on
.
"
When
I
was
all
that
I
am
now
,
nobody
out
of
my
own
class
seemed
to
care
for
me
.
When
my
books
were
all
written
,
no
one
who
had
read
the
manuscripts
seemed
to
care
for
them
.
In
point
of
fact
,
because
of
the
stuff
I
had
written
they
seemed
to
care
even
less
for
me
.
In
writing
the
stuff
it
seemed
that
I
had
committed
acts
that
were
,
to
say
the
least
,
derogatory
.
‘
Get
a
job
,
’
everybody
said
.
"
She
made
a
movement
of
dissent
.
"
Yes
,
yes
,
"
he
said
;
"
except
in
your
case
you
told
me
to
get
a
position
.
The
homely
word
job
,
like
much
that
I
have
written
,
offends
you
.
It
is
brutal
.
But
I
assure
you
it
was
no
less
brutal
to
me
when
everybody
I
knew
recommended
it
to
me
as
they
would
recommend
right
conduct
to
an
immoral
creature
.
But
to
return
.
The
publication
of
what
I
had
written
,
and
the
public
notice
I
received
,
wrought
a
change
in
the
fibre
of
your
love
.
Martin
Eden
,
with
his
work
all
performed
,
you
would
not
marry
.
Your
love
for
him
was
not
strong
enough
to
enable
you
to
marry
him
.
But
your
love
is
now
strong
enough
,
and
I
cannot
avoid
the
conclusion
that
its
strength
arises
from
the
publication
and
the
public
notice
.
In
your
case
I
do
not
mention
royalties
,
though
I
am
certain
that
they
apply
to
the
change
wrought
in
your
mother
and
father
.
Of
course
,
all
this
is
not
flattering
to
me
.
But
worst
of
all
,
it
makes
me
question
love
,
sacred
love
.
Is
love
so
gross
a
thing
that
it
must
feed
upon
publication
and
public
notice
?
It
would
seem
so
.
I
have
sat
and
thought
upon
it
till
my
head
went
around
.
"
"
Poor
,
dear
head
.
"
She
reached
up
a
hand
and
passed
the
fingers
soothingly
through
his
hair
.
"
Let
it
go
around
no
more
.
Let
us
begin
anew
,
now
.
I
loved
you
all
the
time
.
I
know
that
I
was
weak
in
yielding
to
my
mother
’
s
will
.
I
should
not
have
done
so
.
Yet
I
have
heard
you
speak
so
often
with
broad
charity
of
the
fallibility
and
frailty
of
humankind
.
Extend
that
charity
to
me
.
I
acted
mistakenly
.
Forgive
me
.
"
"
Oh
,
I
do
forgive
,
"
he
said
impatiently
.
"
It
is
easy
to
forgive
where
there
is
really
nothing
to
forgive
.
Nothing
that
you
have
done
requires
forgiveness
.
One
acts
according
to
one
’
s
lights
,
and
more
than
that
one
cannot
do
.
As
well
might
I
ask
you
to
forgive
me
for
my
not
getting
a
job
.
"
"
I
meant
well
,
"
she
protested
.
"
You
know
that
I
could
not
have
loved
you
and
not
meant
well
.
"
"
True
;
but
you
would
have
destroyed
me
out
of
your
well
-
meaning
.
"
"
Yes
,
yes
,
"
he
shut
off
her
attempted
objection
.
"
You
would
have
destroyed
my
writing
and
my
career
.
Realism
is
imperative
to
my
nature
,
and
the
bourgeois
spirit
hates
realism
.
The
bourgeoisie
is
cowardly
.
It
is
afraid
of
life
.
And
all
your
effort
was
to
make
me
afraid
of
life
.
You
would
have
formalized
me
.
You
would
have
compressed
me
into
a
two
-
by
-
four
pigeonhole
of
life
,
where
all
life
’
s
values
are
unreal
,
and
false
,
and
vulgar
.
"
He
felt
her
stir
protestingly
.
"
Vulgarity
—
a
hearty
vulgarity
,
I
’
ll
admit
—
is
the
basis
of
bourgeois
refinement
and
culture
.
As
I
say
,
you
wanted
to
formalize
me
,
to
make
me
over
into
one
of
your
own
class
,
with
your
class
-
ideals
,
class
-
values
,
and
class
-
prejudices
.
"
He
shook
his
head
sadly
.
"
And
you
do
not
understand
,
even
now
,
what
I
am
saying
.
My
words
do
not
mean
to
you
what
I
endeavor
to
make
them
mean
.
What
I
say
is
so
much
fantasy
to
you
.
Yet
to
me
it
is
vital
reality
.
At
the
best
you
are
a
trifle
puzzled
and
amused
that
this
raw
boy
,
crawling
up
out
of
the
mire
of
the
abyss
,
should
pass
judgment
upon
your
class
and
call
it
vulgar
.
"
