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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 123/416
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He
shouted
a
last
imprecation
at
the
Chinaman
and
turned
back
into
the
barn
.
Presley
and
Vanamee
went
on
,
but
Annixter
,
as
he
crossed
the
floor
of
the
barn
,
all
but
collided
with
Hilma
Tree
,
who
came
out
from
one
of
the
stalls
,
a
box
of
candles
in
her
arms
.
Gasping
out
an
apology
,
Annixter
reentered
the
harness
room
,
closing
the
door
behind
him
,
and
forgetting
all
the
responsibility
of
the
moment
,
lit
a
cigar
and
sat
down
in
one
of
the
hired
chairs
,
his
hands
in
his
pockets
,
his
feet
on
the
table
,
frowning
thoughtfully
through
the
blue
smoke
.
Annixter
was
at
last
driven
to
confess
to
himself
that
he
could
not
get
the
thought
of
Hilma
Tree
out
of
his
mind
.
Finally
she
had
“
got
a
hold
on
him
.
”
The
thing
that
of
all
others
he
most
dreaded
had
happened
.
A
feemale
girl
had
got
a
hold
on
him
,
and
now
there
was
no
longer
for
him
any
such
thing
as
peace
of
mind
.
The
idea
of
the
young
woman
was
with
him
continually
.
He
went
to
bed
with
it
;
he
got
up
with
it
.
At
every
moment
of
the
day
he
was
pestered
with
it
.
It
interfered
with
his
work
,
got
mixed
up
in
his
business
.
What
a
miserable
confession
for
a
man
to
make
;
a
fine
way
to
waste
his
time
.
Was
it
possible
that
only
the
other
day
he
had
stood
in
front
of
the
music
store
in
Bonneville
and
seriously
considered
making
Hilma
a
present
of
a
music
-
box
?
Even
now
,
the
very
thought
of
it
made
him
flush
with
shame
,
and
this
after
she
had
told
him
plainly
that
she
did
not
like
him
.
He
was
running
after
her
—
he
,
Annixter
!
He
ripped
out
a
furious
oath
,
striking
the
table
with
his
boot
heel
.
Again
and
again
he
had
resolved
to
put
the
whole
affair
from
out
his
mind
.
Once
he
had
been
able
to
do
so
,
but
of
late
it
was
becoming
harder
and
harder
with
every
successive
day
.
He
had
only
to
close
his
eyes
to
see
her
as
plain
as
if
she
stood
before
him
;
he
saw
her
in
a
glory
of
sunlight
that
set
a
fine
tinted
lustre
of
pale
carnation
and
gold
on
the
silken
sheen
of
her
white
skin
,
her
hair
sparkled
with
it
,
her
thick
,
strong
neck
,
sloping
to
her
shoulders
with
beautiful
,
full
curves
,
seemed
to
radiate
the
light
;
her
eyes
,
brown
,
wide
,
innocent
in
expression
,
disclosing
the
full
disc
of
the
pupil
upon
the
slightest
provocation
,
flashed
in
this
sunlight
like
diamonds
.
Annixter
was
all
bewildered
.
With
the
exception
of
the
timid
little
creature
in
the
glove
-
cleaning
establishment
in
Sacramento
,
he
had
had
no
acquaintance
with
any
woman
.
His
world
was
harsh
,
crude
,
a
world
of
men
only
—
men
who
were
to
be
combatted
,
opposed
—
his
hand
was
against
nearly
every
one
of
them
.
Women
he
distrusted
with
the
instinctive
distrust
of
the
overgrown
schoolboy
.
Now
,
at
length
,
a
young
woman
had
come
into
his
life
.
Promptly
he
was
struck
with
discomfiture
,
annoyed
almost
beyond
endurance
,
harassed
,
bedevilled
,
excited
,
made
angry
and
exasperated
.
He
was
suspicious
of
the
woman
,
yet
desired
her
,
totally
ignorant
of
how
to
approach
her
,
hating
the
sex
,
yet
drawn
to
the
individual
,
confusing
the
two
emotions
,
sometimes
even
hating
Hilma
as
a
result
of
this
confusion
,
but
at
all
times
disturbed
,
vexed
,
irritated
beyond
power
of
expression
.
At
length
,
Annixter
cast
his
cigar
from
him
and
plunged
again
into
the
work
of
the
day
.
The
afternoon
wore
to
evening
,
to
the
accompaniment
of
wearying
and
clamorous
endeavour
.
In
some
unexplained
fashion
,
the
labour
of
putting
the
great
barn
in
readiness
for
the
dance
was
accomplished
;
the
last
bolt
of
cambric
was
hung
in
place
from
the
rafters
.
The
last
evergreen
tree
was
nailed
to
the
joists
of
the
walls
;
the
last
lantern
hung
,
the
last
nail
driven
into
the
musicians
’
platform
.
The
sun
set
.
There
was
a
great
scurry
to
have
supper
and
dress
.
Annixter
,
last
of
all
the
other
workers
,
left
the
barn
in
the
dusk
of
twilight
.
He
was
alone
;
he
had
a
saw
under
one
arm
,
a
bag
of
tools
was
in
his
hand
.
He
was
in
his
shirt
sleeves
and
carried
his
coat
over
his
shoulder
;
a
hammer
was
thrust
into
one
of
his
hip
pockets
.
He
was
in
execrable
temper
.
The
day
’
s
work
had
fagged
him
out
.
He
had
not
been
able
to
find
his
hat
.
“
And
the
buckskin
with
sixty
dollars
’
worth
of
saddle
gone
,
too
,
”
he
groaned
.
“
Oh
,
ain
’
t
it
sweet
?
”
At
his
house
,
Mrs
.
Tree
had
set
out
a
cold
supper
for
him
,
the
inevitable
dish
of
prunes
serving
as
dessert
.
After
supper
Annixter
bathed
and
dressed
.
He
decided
at
the
last
moment
to
wear
his
usual
town
-
going
suit
,
a
sack
suit
of
black
,
made
by
a
Bonneville
tailor
.
But
his
hat
was
gone
.
There
were
other
hats
he
might
have
worn
,
but
because
this
particular
one
was
lost
he
fretted
about
it
all
through
his
dressing
and
then
decided
to
have
one
more
look
around
the
barn
for
it
.
For
over
a
quarter
of
an
hour
he
pottered
about
the
barn
,
going
from
stall
to
stall
,
rummaging
the
harness
room
and
feed
room
,
all
to
no
purpose
.
At
last
he
came
out
again
upon
the
main
floor
,
definitely
giving
up
the
search
,
looking
about
him
to
see
if
everything
was
in
order
.
