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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Стр. 271/274
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The
gun
fell
from
his
opened
hand
,
but
the
arm
remained
extended
for
a
moment
as
if
still
supported
.
Linda
seized
it
roughly
.
"
You
are
too
old
to
understand
.
Come
into
the
house
.
"
He
let
her
lead
him
.
On
the
threshold
he
stumbled
heavily
,
nearly
coming
to
the
ground
together
with
his
daughter
.
His
excitement
,
his
activity
of
the
last
few
days
,
had
been
like
the
flare
of
a
dying
lamp
.
He
caught
at
the
back
of
his
chair
.
"
In
son
Gian
'
Battista
's
voice
,
"
he
repeated
in
a
severe
tone
.
"
I
heard
him
--
Ramirez
--
the
miserable
--
--
"
Linda
helped
him
into
the
chair
,
and
,
bending
low
,
hissed
into
his
ear
--
"
You
have
killed
Gian
'
Battista
.
"
The
old
man
smiled
under
his
thick
moustache
.
Women
had
strange
fancies
.
"
Where
is
the
child
?
"
he
asked
,
surprised
at
the
penetrating
chilliness
of
the
air
and
the
unwonted
dimness
of
the
lamp
by
which
he
used
to
sit
up
half
the
night
with
the
open
Bible
before
him
.
Linda
hesitated
a
moment
,
then
averted
her
eyes
.
"
She
is
asleep
,
"
she
said
.
"
We
shall
talk
of
her
tomorrow
.
"
