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- Стр. 165/229
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Suddenly
he
felt
the
strong
reaction
of
reality
and
its
impetus
brought
him
to
his
feet
.
“
Whatever
happens
,
I
intend
to
go
—
to
go
for
good
,
”
he
exclaimed
.
“
I
want
you
to
understand
that
.
Oh
,
don
’
t
be
afraid
—
I
’
ll
find
a
reason
.
But
it
’
s
perfectly
clear
that
I
must
go
.
”
She
uttered
a
protesting
cry
.
“
Go
away
?
You
?
Don
’
t
you
see
that
that
would
tell
everything
—
drag
everybody
into
the
horror
?
”
He
found
no
answer
,
and
her
voice
dropped
back
to
its
calmer
note
.
“
What
good
would
your
going
do
?
Do
you
suppose
it
would
change
anything
for
me
?
”
She
looked
at
him
with
a
musing
wistfulness
.
“
I
wonder
what
your
feeling
for
me
was
?
It
seems
queer
that
I
’
ve
never
really
known
—
I
suppose
we
don
’
t
know
much
about
that
kind
of
feeling
.
Is
it
like
taking
a
drink
when
you
’
re
thirsty
?
.
.
.
I
used
to
feel
as
if
all
of
me
was
in
the
palm
of
your
hand
.
.
.
”
He
bowed
his
humbled
head
,
but
she
went
on
almost
exultantly
:
“
Don
’
t
for
a
minute
think
I
’
m
sorry
!
It
was
worth
every
penny
it
cost
.
My
mistake
was
in
being
ashamed
,
just
at
first
,
of
its
having
cost
such
a
lot
.
I
tried
to
carry
it
off
as
a
joke
—
to
talk
of
it
to
myself
as
an
‘
adventure
’
.
I
’
d
always
wanted
adventures
,
and
you
’
d
given
me
one
,
and
I
tried
to
take
your
attitude
about
it
,
to
‘
play
the
game
’
and
convince
myself
that
I
hadn
’
t
risked
any
more
on
it
than
you
.
Then
,
when
I
met
you
again
,
I
suddenly
saw
that
I
had
risked
more
,
but
that
I
’
d
won
more
,
too
—
such
worlds
!
I
’
d
been
trying
all
the
while
to
put
everything
I
could
between
us
;
now
I
want
to
sweep
everything
away
.
I
’
d
been
trying
to
forget
how
you
looked
;
now
I
want
to
remember
you
always
.
I
’
d
been
trying
not
to
hear
your
voice
;
now
I
never
want
to
hear
any
other
.
I
’
ve
made
my
choice
—
that
’
s
all
:
I
’
ve
had
you
and
I
mean
to
keep
you
.
”
Her
face
was
shining
like
her
eyes
.
“
To
keep
you
hidden
away
here
,
”
she
ended
,
and
put
her
hand
upon
her
breast
.
After
she
had
left
him
,
Darrow
continued
to
sit
motionless
,
staring
back
into
their
past
.
Hitherto
it
had
lingered
on
the
edge
of
his
mind
in
a
vague
pink
blur
,
like
one
of
the
little
rose
-
leaf
clouds
that
a
setting
sun
drops
from
its
disk
.
Now
it
was
a
huge
looming
darkness
,
through
which
his
eyes
vainly
strained
.
The
whole
episode
was
still
obscure
to
him
,
save
where
here
and
there
,
as
they
talked
,
some
phrase
or
gesture
or
intonation
of
the
girl
’
s
had
lit
up
a
little
spot
in
the
night
.
She
had
said
:
“
I
wonder
what
your
feeling
for
me
was
?
”
and
he
found
himself
wondering
too
.
.
.
.
He
remembered
distinctly
enough
that
he
had
not
meant
the
perilous
passion
—
even
in
its
most
transient
form
—
to
play
a
part
in
their
relation
.
In
that
respect
his
attitude
had
been
above
reproach
.
She
was
an
unusually
original
and
attractive
creature
,
to
whom
he
had
wanted
to
give
a
few
days
of
harmless
pleasuring
,
and
who
was
alert
and
expert
enough
to
understand
his
intention
and
spare
him
the
boredom
of
hesitations
and
misinterpretations
.
That
had
been
his
first
impression
,
and
her
subsequent
demeanour
had
justified
it
.
She
had
been
,
from
the
outset
,
just
the
frank
and
easy
comrade
he
had
expected
to
find
her
.
Was
it
he
,
then
,
who
,
in
the
sequel
,
had
grown
impatient
of
the
bounds
he
had
set
himself
?
Was
it
his
wounded
vanity
that
,
seeking
balm
for
its
hurt
,
yearned
to
dip
deeper
into
the
healing
pool
of
her
compassion
?
In
his
confused
memory
of
the
situation
he
seemed
not
to
have
been
guiltless
of
such
yearnings
.
.
.
.
Yet
for
the
first
few
days
the
experiment
had
been
perfectly
successful
.
Her
enjoyment
had
been
unclouded
and
his
pleasure
in
it
undisturbed
.
It
was
very
gradually
—
he
seemed
to
see
—
that
a
shade
of
lassitude
had
crept
over
their
intercourse
.
Perhaps
it
was
because
,
when
her
light
chatter
about
people
failed
,
he
found
she
had
no
other
fund
to
draw
on
,
or
perhaps
simply
because
of
the
sweetness
of
her
laugh
,
or
of
the
charm
of
the
gesture
with
which
,
one
day
in
the
woods
of
Marly
,
she
had
tossed
off
her
hat
and
tilted
back
her
head
at
the
call
of
a
cuckoo
;
or
because
,
whenever
he
looked
at
her
unexpectedly
,
he
found
that
she
was
looking
at
him
and
did
not
want
him
to
know
it
;
or
perhaps
,
in
varying
degrees
,
because
of
all
these
things
,
that
there
had
come
a
moment
when
no
word
seemed
to
fly
high
enough
or
dive
deep
enough
to
utter
the
sense
of
well
-
being
each
gave
to
the
other
,
and
the
natural
substitute
for
speech
had
been
a
kiss
.
The
kiss
,
at
all
events
,
had
come
at
the
precise
moment
to
save
their
venture
from
disaster
.
They
had
reached
the
point
when
her
amazing
reminiscences
had
begun
to
flag
,
when
her
future
had
been
exhaustively
discussed
,
her
theatrical
prospects
minutely
studied
,
her
quarrel
with
Mrs
.
Murrett
retold
with
the
last
amplification
of
detail
,
and
when
,
perhaps
conscious
of
her
exhausted
resources
and
his
dwindling
interest
,
she
had
committed
the
fatal
error
of
saying
that
she
could
see
he
was
unhappy
,
and
entreating
him
to
tell
her
why
.
.
.
From
the
brink
of
estranging
confidences
,
and
from
the
risk
of
unfavourable
comparisons
,
his
gesture
had
snatched
her
back
to
safety
;
and
as
soon
as
he
had
kissed
her
he
felt
that
she
would
never
bore
him
again
.
