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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 116/416
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Derrick
with
her
wide
-
opened
eyes
,
that
so
easily
took
on
a
look
of
uneasiness
,
of
innocence
,
of
anxious
inquiry
,
her
face
still
pretty
,
her
brown
hair
that
still
retained
so
much
of
its
brightness
spread
over
her
chair
back
,
drying
in
the
sun
;
Magnus
,
erect
as
an
officer
of
cavalry
,
smooth
-
shaven
,
grey
,
thin
-
lipped
,
imposing
,
with
his
hawk
-
like
nose
and
forward
-
curling
grey
hair
;
Presley
with
his
dark
face
,
delicate
mouth
and
sensitive
,
loose
lips
,
in
corduroys
and
laced
boots
,
smoking
cigarettes
—
an
interesting
figure
,
suggestive
of
a
mixed
origin
,
morbid
,
excitable
,
melancholy
,
brooding
upon
things
that
had
no
names
.
Then
it
was
Bonneville
,
with
the
gayety
and
confusion
of
Main
Street
,
the
whirring
electric
cars
,
the
zinc
-
sheathed
telegraph
poles
,
the
buckboards
with
squashes
stowed
under
the
seats
;
Ruggles
in
frock
coat
,
Stetson
hat
and
shoe
-
string
necktie
,
writing
abstractedly
upon
his
blotting
pad
;
Dyke
,
the
engineer
,
big
-
boned
.
Powerful
,
deep
-
voiced
,
good
-
natured
,
with
his
fine
blonde
beard
and
massive
arms
,
rehearsing
the
praises
of
his
little
daughter
Sidney
,
guided
only
by
the
one
ambition
that
she
should
be
educated
at
a
seminary
,
slipping
a
dime
into
the
toe
of
her
diminutive
slipper
,
then
,
later
,
overwhelmed
with
shame
,
slinking
into
S
.
Behrman
’
s
office
to
mortgage
his
homestead
to
the
heeler
of
the
corporation
that
had
discharged
him
.
By
suggestion
,
Annixter
saw
S
Behrman
,
too
,
fat
,
with
a
vast
stomach
,
the
check
and
neck
meeting
to
form
a
great
,
tremulous
jowl
,
the
roll
of
fat
over
his
collar
,
sprinkled
with
sparse
,
stiff
hairs
;
saw
his
brown
,
round
-
topped
hat
of
varnished
straw
,
the
linen
vest
stamped
with
innumerable
interlocked
horseshoes
,
the
heavy
watch
chain
,
clinking
against
the
pearl
vest
buttons
;
invariably
placid
,
unruffled
,
never
losing
his
temper
,
serene
,
unassailable
,
enthroned
.
Then
,
at
the
end
of
all
,
it
was
the
ranch
again
,
seen
in
a
last
brief
glance
before
he
had
gone
to
bed
;
the
fecundated
earth
,
calm
at
last
,
nursing
the
emplanted
germ
of
life
,
ruddy
with
the
sunset
,
the
horizons
purple
,
the
small
clamour
of
the
day
lapsing
into
quiet
,
the
great
,
still
twilight
,
building
itself
,
dome
-
like
,
toward
the
zenith
.
The
barn
fowls
were
roosting
in
the
trees
near
the
stable
,
the
horses
crunching
their
fodder
in
the
stalls
,
the
day
’
s
work
ceasing
by
slow
degrees
;
and
the
priest
,
the
Spanish
churchman
,
Father
Sarria
,
relic
of
a
departed
regime
,
kindly
,
benign
,
believing
in
all
goodness
,
a
lover
of
his
fellows
and
of
dumb
animals
,
yet
,
for
all
that
,
hurrying
away
in
confusion
and
discomfiture
,
carrying
in
one
hand
the
vessels
of
the
Holy
Communion
and
in
the
other
a
basket
of
game
cocks
.
It
was
high
noon
,
and
the
rays
of
the
sun
,
that
hung
poised
directly
overhead
in
an
intolerable
white
glory
,
fell
straight
as
plummets
upon
the
roofs
and
streets
of
Guadalajara
.
The
adobe
walls
and
sparse
brick
sidewalks
of
the
drowsing
town
radiated
the
heat
in
an
oily
,
quivering
shimmer
.
The
leaves
of
the
eucalyptus
trees
around
the
Plaza
drooped
motionless
,
limp
and
relaxed
under
the
scorching
,
searching
blaze
.
The
shadows
of
these
trees
had
shrunk
to
their
smallest
circumference
,
contracting
close
about
the
trunks
.
The
shade
had
dwindled
to
the
breadth
of
a
mere
line
.
The
sun
was
everywhere
.
The
heat
exhaling
from
brick
and
plaster
and
metal
met
the
heat
that
steadily
descended
blanketwise
and
smothering
,
from
the
pale
,
scorched
sky
.
Only
the
lizards
—
they
lived
in
chinks
of
the
crumbling
adobe
and
in
interstices
of
the
sidewalk
—
remained
without
,
motionless
,
as
if
stuffed
,
their
eyes
closed
to
mere
slits
,
basking
,
stupefied
with
heat
.
At
long
intervals
the
prolonged
drone
of
an
insect
developed
out
of
the
silence
,
vibrated
a
moment
in
a
soothing
,
somnolent
,
long
note
,
then
trailed
slowly
into
the
quiet
again
.
Somewhere
in
the
interior
of
one
of
the
’
dobe
houses
a
guitar
snored
and
hummed
sleepily
.
On
the
roof
of
the
hotel
a
group
of
pigeons
cooed
incessantly
with
subdued
,
liquid
murmurs
,
very
plaintive
;
a
cat
,
perfectly
white
,
with
a
pink
nose
and
thin
,
pink
lips
,
dozed
complacently
on
a
fence
rail
,
full
in
the
sun
.
In
a
corner
of
the
Plaza
three
hens
wallowed
in
the
baking
hot
dust
their
wings
fluttering
,
clucking
comfortably
.
And
this
was
all
.
A
Sunday
repose
prevailed
the
whole
moribund
town
,
peaceful
,
profound
.
A
certain
pleasing
numbness
,
a
sense
of
grateful
enervation
exhaled
from
the
scorching
plaster
.
There
was
no
movement
,
no
sound
of
human
business
.
The
faint
hum
of
the
insect
,
the
intermittent
murmur
of
the
guitar
,
the
mellow
complainings
of
the
pigeons
,
the
prolonged
purr
of
the
white
cat
,
the
contented
clucking
of
the
hens
—
all
these
noises
mingled
together
to
form
a
faint
,
drowsy
bourdon
,
prolonged
,
stupefying
,
suggestive
of
an
infinite
quiet
,
of
a
calm
,
complacent
life
,
centuries
old
,
lapsing
gradually
to
its
end
under
the
gorgeous
loneliness
of
a
cloudless
,
pale
blue
sky
and
the
steady
fire
of
an
interminable
sun
.
In
Solotari
’
s
Spanish
-
Mexican
restaurant
,
Vanamee
and
Presley
sat
opposite
each
other
at
one
of
the
tables
near
the
door
,
a
bottle
of
white
wine
,
tortillas
,
and
an
earthen
pot
of
frijoles
between
them
.
They
were
the
sole
occupants
of
the
place
.
It
was
the
day
that
Annixter
had
chosen
for
his
barn
-
dance
and
,
in
consequence
,
Quien
Sabe
was
in
fete
and
work
suspended
.
Presley
and
Vanamee
had
arranged
to
spend
the
day
in
each
other
’
s
company
,
lunching
at
Solotari
’
s
and
taking
a
long
tramp
in
the
afternoon
.
For
the
moment
they
sat
back
in
their
chairs
,
their
meal
all
but
finished
.
Solotari
brought
black
coffee
and
a
small
carafe
of
mescal
,
and
retiring
to
a
corner
of
the
room
,
went
to
sleep
.
All
through
the
meal
Presley
had
been
wondering
over
a
certain
change
he
observed
in
his
friend
.
He
looked
at
him
again
.
Vanamee
’
s
lean
,
spare
face
was
of
an
olive
pallor
.
His
long
,
black
hair
,
such
as
one
sees
in
the
saints
and
evangelists
of
the
pre
-
Raphaelite
artists
,
hung
over
his
ears
.
Presley
again
remarked
his
pointed
beard
,
black
and
fine
,
growing
from
the
hollow
cheeks
.
He
looked
at
his
face
,
a
face
like
that
of
a
young
seer
,
like
a
half
-
inspired
shepherd
of
the
Hebraic
legends
,
a
dweller
in
the
wilderness
,
gifted
with
strange
powers
.
He
was
dressed
as
when
Presley
had
first
met
him
,
herding
his
sheep
,
in
brown
canvas
overalls
,
thrust
into
top
boots
;
grey
flannel
shirt
,
open
at
the
throat
,
showing
the
breast
ruddy
with
tan
;
the
waist
encircled
with
a
cartridge
belt
,
empty
of
cartridges
.
