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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 132/416
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A
sense
of
gayety
began
to
spread
throughout
the
assembly
.
At
every
moment
the
crowd
increased
.
The
aroma
of
new
-
sawn
timber
and
sawdust
began
to
be
mingled
with
the
feminine
odour
of
sachet
and
flowers
.
There
was
a
babel
of
talk
in
the
air
—
male
baritone
and
soprano
chatter
—
varied
by
an
occasional
note
of
laughter
and
the
swish
of
stiffly
starched
petticoats
.
On
the
row
of
chairs
that
went
around
three
sides
of
the
wall
groups
began
to
settle
themselves
.
For
a
long
time
the
guests
huddled
close
to
the
doorway
;
the
lower
end
of
the
floor
was
crowded
!
the
upper
end
deserted
;
but
by
degrees
the
lines
of
white
muslin
and
pink
and
blue
sateen
extended
,
dotted
with
the
darker
figures
of
men
in
black
suits
.
The
conversation
grew
louder
as
the
timidity
of
the
early
moments
wore
off
.
Groups
at
a
distance
called
back
and
forth
;
conversations
were
carried
on
at
top
voice
.
Once
,
even
a
whole
party
hurried
across
the
floor
from
one
side
of
the
barn
to
the
other
.
Annixter
emerged
from
the
harness
room
,
his
face
red
with
wrangling
.
He
took
a
position
to
the
right
of
the
door
,
shaking
hands
with
newcomers
,
inviting
them
over
and
over
again
to
cut
loose
and
whoop
it
along
.
Into
the
ears
of
his
more
intimate
male
acquaintances
he
dropped
a
word
as
to
punch
and
cigars
in
the
harness
room
later
on
,
winking
with
vast
intelligence
.
Ranchers
from
remoter
parts
of
the
country
appeared
:
Garnett
,
from
the
Ruby
rancho
,
Keast
,
from
the
ranch
of
the
same
name
,
Gethings
,
of
the
San
Pablo
,
Chattern
,
of
the
Bonanza
,
and
others
and
still
others
,
a
score
of
them
—
elderly
men
,
for
the
most
part
,
bearded
,
slow
of
speech
,
deliberate
,
dressed
in
broadcloth
.
Old
Broderson
,
who
entered
with
his
wife
on
his
arm
,
fell
in
with
this
type
,
and
with
them
came
a
certain
Dabney
,
of
whom
nothing
but
his
name
was
known
,
a
silent
old
man
,
who
made
no
friends
,
whom
nobody
knew
or
spoke
to
,
who
was
seen
only
upon
such
occasions
as
this
,
coming
from
no
one
knew
where
,
going
,
no
one
cared
to
inquire
whither
.
Between
eight
and
half
-
past
,
Magnus
Derrick
and
his
family
were
seen
.
Magnus
’
s
entry
caused
no
little
impression
.
Some
said
:
“
There
’
s
the
Governor
,
”
and
called
their
companions
’
attention
to
the
thin
,
erect
figure
,
commanding
,
imposing
,
dominating
all
in
his
immediate
neighbourhood
.
Harran
came
with
him
,
wearing
a
cut
-
away
suit
of
black
.
He
was
undeniably
handsome
,
young
and
fresh
looking
,
his
cheeks
highly
coloured
,
quite
the
finest
looking
of
all
the
younger
men
;
blond
,
strong
,
with
that
certain
courtliness
of
manner
that
had
always
made
him
liked
.
He
took
his
mother
upon
his
arm
and
conducted
her
to
a
seat
by
the
side
of
Mrs
.
Broderson
.
Annie
Derrick
was
very
pretty
that
evening
.
She
was
dressed
in
a
grey
silk
gown
with
a
collar
of
pink
velvet
.
Her
light
brown
hair
that
yet
retained
so
much
of
its
brightness
was
transfixed
by
a
high
,
shell
comb
,
very
Spanish
.
But
the
look
of
uneasiness
in
her
large
eyes
—
the
eyes
of
a
young
girl
—
was
deepening
every
day
.
The
expression
of
innocence
and
inquiry
which
they
so
easily
assumed
,
was
disturbed
by
a
faint
suggestion
of
aversion
,
almost
of
terror
.
She
settled
herself
in
her
place
,
in
the
corner
of
the
hall
,
in
the
rear
rank
of
chairs
,
a
little
frightened
by
the
glare
of
lights
,
the
hum
of
talk
and
the
shifting
crowd
,
glad
to
be
out
of
the
way
,
to
attract
no
attention
,
willing
to
obliterate
herself
.
All
at
once
Annixter
,
who
had
just
shaken
hands
with
Dyke
,
his
mother
and
the
little
tad
,
moved
abruptly
in
his
place
,
drawing
in
his
breath
sharply
.
The
crowd
around
the
great
,
wide
-
open
main
door
of
the
barn
had
somewhat
thinned
out
and
in
the
few
groups
that
still
remained
there
he
had
suddenly
recognised
Mr
.
and
Mrs
.
Tree
and
Hilma
,
making
their
way
towards
some
empty
seats
near
the
entrance
of
the
feed
room
.
In
the
dusky
light
of
the
barn
earlier
in
the
evening
,
Annixter
had
not
been
able
to
see
Hilma
plainly
.
Now
,
however
,
as
she
passed
before
his
eyes
in
the
glittering
radiance
of
the
lamps
and
lanterns
,
he
caught
his
breath
in
astonishment
.
Never
had
she
appeared
more
beautiful
in
his
eyes
.
It
did
not
seem
possible
that
this
was
the
same
girl
whom
he
saw
every
day
in
and
around
the
ranch
house
and
dairy
,
the
girl
of
simple
calico
frocks
and
plain
shirt
waists
,
who
brought
him
his
dinner
,
who
made
up
his
bed
.
Now
he
could
not
take
his
eyes
from
her
.
Hilma
,
for
the
first
time
,
was
wearing
her
hair
done
high
upon
her
head
.
The
thick
,
sweet
-
smelling
masses
,
bitumen
brown
in
the
shadows
,
corruscated
like
golden
filaments
in
the
light
.
Her
organdie
frock
was
long
,
longer
than
any
she
had
yet
worn
.
It
left
a
little
of
her
neck
and
breast
bare
and
all
of
her
arm
.
Annixter
muttered
an
exclamation
.
Such
arms
!
How
did
she
manage
to
keep
them
hid
on
ordinary
occasions
.
Big
at
the
shoulder
,
tapering
with
delicious
modulations
to
the
elbow
and
wrist
,
overlaid
with
a
delicate
,
gleaming
lustre
.
As
often
as
she
turned
her
head
the
movement
sent
a
slow
undulation
over
her
neck
and
shoulders
,
the
pale
amber
-
tinted
shadows
under
her
chin
,
coming
and
going
over
the
creamy
whiteness
of
the
skin
like
the
changing
moire
of
silk
.
The
pretty
rose
colour
of
her
cheek
had
deepened
to
a
pale
carnation
.
Annixter
,
his
hands
clasped
behind
him
,
stood
watching
.
