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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Стр. 95/95
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God
seems
to
have
forgotten
me
.
I
want
to
see
you
--
and
yet
death
would
be
a
greater
favor
.
If
you
ever
read
these
words
,
I
charge
you
to
begin
by
thanking
a
God
merciful
at
last
,
for
I
shall
be
dead
then
,
and
it
will
be
well
.
My
dear
,
I
am
at
the
end
of
my
tether
.
"
The
next
paragraph
began
with
the
words
:
"
My
sight
is
going
...
"
She
read
no
more
that
day
.
The
hand
holding
up
the
paper
to
her
eyes
fell
slowly
,
and
her
slender
figure
in
a
plain
black
dress
walked
rigidly
to
the
window
.
Her
eyes
were
dry
:
no
cry
of
sorrow
or
whisper
of
thanks
went
up
to
heaven
from
her
lips
.
Life
had
been
too
hard
,
for
all
the
efforts
of
his
love
.
It
had
silenced
her
emotions
.
But
for
the
first
time
in
all
these
years
its
sting
had
departed
,
the
carking
care
of
poverty
,
the
meanness
of
a
hard
struggle
for
bread
.
Even
the
image
of
her
husband
and
of
her
children
seemed
to
glide
away
from
her
into
the
gray
twilight
;
it
was
her
father
's
face
alone
that
she
saw
,
as
though
he
had
come
to
see
her
,
always
quiet
and
big
,
as
she
had
seen
him
last
,
but
with
something
more
august
and
tender
in
his
aspect
.
She
slipped
his
folded
letter
between
the
two
buttons
of
her
plain
black
bodice
,
and
leaning
her
forehead
against
a
window-pane
remained
there
till
dusk
,
perfectly
motionless
,
giving
him
all
the
time
she
could
spare
.
Gone
!
Was
it
possible
?
My
God
,
was
it
possible
!
The
blow
had
come
softened
by
the
spaces
of
the
earth
,
by
the
years
of
absence
.
There
had
been
whole
days
when
she
had
not
thought
of
him
at
all
--
had
no
time
.
But
she
had
loved
him
,
she
felt
she
had
loved
him
,
after
all
.