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- Джозеф Конрад
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- Стр. 32/274
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The
working
competence
of
men
--
which
she
never
questioned
--
was
very
surprising
to
Mrs.
Gould
,
because
upon
so
many
obvious
issues
they
showed
themselves
strangely
muddle-headed
.
Charles
Gould
,
with
a
careworn
calmness
which
secured
for
him
at
once
his
wife
's
anxious
sympathy
,
assured
her
that
he
was
not
comparing
.
He
was
an
American
himself
,
after
all
,
and
perhaps
he
could
understand
both
kinds
of
eloquence
--
"
if
it
were
worth
while
to
try
,
"
he
added
,
grimly
.
But
he
had
breathed
the
air
of
England
longer
than
any
of
his
people
had
done
for
three
generations
,
and
really
he
begged
to
be
excused
.
His
poor
father
could
be
eloquent
,
too
.
And
he
asked
his
wife
whether
she
remembered
a
passage
in
one
of
his
father
's
last
letters
where
Mr.
Gould
had
expressed
the
conviction
that
"
God
looked
wrathfully
at
these
countries
,
or
else
He
would
let
some
ray
of
hope
fall
through
a
rift
in
the
appalling
darkness
of
intrigue
,
bloodshed
,
and
crime
that
hung
over
the
Queen
of
Continents
.
"
Mrs.
Gould
had
not
forgotten
.
"
You
read
it
to
me
,
Charley
,
"
she
murmured
.
"
It
was
a
striking
pronouncement
.
How
deeply
your
father
must
have
felt
its
terrible
sadness
!
"
"
He
did
not
like
to
be
robbed
.
It
exasperated
him
,
"
said
Charles
Gould
.
"
But
the
image
will
serve
well
enough
.
What
is
wanted
here
is
law
,
good
faith
,
order
,
security
.
Any
one
can
declaim
about
these
things
,
but
I
pin
my
faith
to
material
interests
.
Only
let
the
material
interests
once
get
a
firm
footing
,
and
they
are
bound
to
impose
the
conditions
on
which
alone
they
can
continue
to
exist
.
That
's
how
your
money-making
is
justified
here
in
the
face
of
lawlessness
and
disorder
.
It
is
justified
because
the
security
which
it
demands
must
be
shared
with
an
oppressed
people
.
A
better
justice
will
come
afterwards
.
That
's
your
ray
of
hope
.
"
His
arm
pressed
her
slight
form
closer
to
his
side
for
a
moment
.
"
And
who
knows
whether
in
that
sense
even
the
San
Tome
mine
may
not
become
that
little
rift
in
the
darkness
which
poor
father
despaired
of
ever
seeing
?
"
She
glanced
up
at
him
with
admiration
.
He
was
competent
;
he
had
given
a
vast
shape
to
the
vagueness
of
her
unselfish
ambitions
.
"
Charley
,
"
she
said
,
"
you
are
splendidly
disobedient
.
"
He
left
her
suddenly
in
the
corredor
to
go
and
get
his
hat
,
a
soft
,
grey
sombrero
,
an
article
of
national
costume
which
combined
unexpectedly
well
with
his
English
get-up
.
He
came
back
,
a
riding-whip
under
his
arm
,
buttoning
up
a
dogskin
glove
;
his
face
reflected
the
resolute
nature
of
his
thoughts
.
His
wife
had
waited
for
him
at
the
head
of
the
stairs
,
and
before
he
gave
her
the
parting
kiss
he
finished
the
conversation
--
"
What
should
be
perfectly
clear
to
us
,
"
he
said
,
"
is
the
fact
that
there
is
no
going
back
.
Where
could
we
begin
life
afresh
?
We
are
in
now
for
all
that
there
is
in
us
.
"
