-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Эдит Уортон
-
- Риф, или Там, где разбивается счастье
-
- Стр. 122/229
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
Madame
de
Chantelle
will
not
.
”
“
How
do
you
know
that
?
”
she
flung
back
.
He
paused
again
,
not
sure
how
far
it
was
prudent
to
reveal
himself
in
the
confidence
of
the
household
.
Then
,
to
avoid
involving
Anna
,
he
answered
:
“
Madame
de
Chantelle
sent
for
me
yesterday
.
”
“
Sent
for
you
—
to
talk
to
you
about
me
?
”
The
colour
rose
to
her
forehead
and
her
eyes
burned
black
under
lowered
brows
.
“
By
what
right
,
I
should
like
to
know
?
What
have
you
to
do
with
me
,
or
with
anything
in
the
world
that
concerns
me
?
”
Darrow
instantly
perceived
what
dread
suspicion
again
possessed
her
,
and
the
sense
that
it
was
not
wholly
unjustified
caused
him
a
passing
pang
of
shame
.
But
it
did
not
turn
him
from
his
purpose
.
“
I
’
m
an
old
friend
of
Mrs
.
Leath
’
s
.
It
’
s
not
unnatural
that
Madame
de
Chantelle
should
talk
to
me
.
”
She
dropped
the
screen
on
the
table
and
stood
up
,
turning
on
him
the
same
small
mask
of
wrath
and
scorn
which
had
glared
at
him
,
in
Paris
,
when
he
had
confessed
to
his
suppression
of
her
letter
.
She
walked
away
a
step
or
two
and
then
came
back
.
“
May
I
ask
what
Madame
de
Chantelle
said
to
you
?
”
“
She
made
it
clear
that
she
should
not
encourage
the
marriage
.
”
“
And
what
was
her
object
in
making
that
clear
to
you
?
”