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- Эдит Уортон
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- Пробный камень
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- Стр. 17/70
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“
A
poor
chap
I
used
to
know
—
who
died
—
he
died
last
year
—
and
who
left
me
a
lot
of
letters
,
letters
he
thought
a
great
deal
of
—
he
was
fond
of
me
and
left
’
em
to
me
outright
,
with
the
idea
,
I
suppose
,
that
they
might
benefit
me
somehow
—
I
don
’
t
know
—
I
’
m
not
much
up
on
such
things
—
”
he
reached
his
hand
to
the
tall
glass
his
host
had
filled
.
“
A
collection
of
autograph
letters
,
eh
?
Any
big
names
?
”
“
Oh
,
only
one
name
.
They
’
re
all
letters
written
to
him
—
by
one
person
,
you
understand
;
a
woman
,
in
fact
—
”
“
Oh
,
a
woman
,
”
said
Flamel
,
negligently
.
Glennard
was
nettled
by
his
obvious
loss
of
interest
.
“
I
rather
think
they
’
d
attract
a
good
deal
of
notice
if
they
were
published
.
”
Flamel
still
looked
uninterested
.
“
Love
-
letters
,
I
suppose
?
”
“
Oh
,
just
—
the
letters
a
woman
would
write
to
a
man
she
knew
well
.
They
were
tremendous
friends
,
he
and
she
.
”
“
And
she
wrote
a
clever
letter
?
”
“
Clever
?
It
was
Margaret
Aubyn
.
”
