-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Норрис
-
- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
-
- Стр. 183/416
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Abruptly
,
the
temptation
to
dabble
her
feet
in
the
creek
presented
itself
to
her
.
Always
she
had
liked
to
play
in
the
water
.
What
a
delight
now
to
take
off
her
shoes
and
stockings
and
wade
out
into
the
shallows
near
the
bank
!
She
had
worn
low
shoes
that
afternoon
,
and
the
dust
of
the
trail
had
filtered
in
above
the
edges
.
At
times
,
she
felt
the
grit
and
grey
sand
on
the
soles
of
her
feet
,
and
the
sensation
had
set
her
teeth
on
edge
.
What
a
delicious
alternative
the
cold
,
clean
water
suggested
,
and
how
easy
it
would
be
to
do
as
she
pleased
just
then
,
if
only
she
were
a
little
girl
.
In
the
end
,
it
was
stupid
to
be
grown
up
.
Sitting
upon
the
bank
,
one
finger
tucked
into
the
heel
of
her
shoe
,
Hilma
hesitated
.
Suppose
a
train
should
come
!
She
fancied
she
could
see
the
engineer
leaning
from
the
cab
with
a
great
grin
on
his
face
,
or
the
brakeman
shouting
gibes
at
her
from
the
platform
.
Abruptly
she
blushed
scarlet
.
The
blood
throbbed
in
her
temples
.
Her
heart
beat
.
Since
the
famous
evening
of
the
barn
dance
,
Annixter
had
spoken
to
her
but
twice
.
Hilma
no
longer
looked
after
the
ranch
house
these
days
.
The
thought
of
setting
foot
within
Annixter
’
s
dining
-
room
and
bed
-
room
terrified
her
,
and
in
the
end
her
mother
had
taken
over
that
part
of
her
work
.
Of
the
two
meetings
with
the
master
of
Quien
Sabe
,
one
had
been
a
mere
exchange
of
good
mornings
as
the
two
happened
to
meet
over
by
the
artesian
well
;
the
other
,
more
complicated
,
had
occurred
in
the
dairy
-
house
again
,
Annixter
,
pretending
to
look
over
the
new
cheese
press
,
asking
about
details
of
her
work
.
When
this
had
happened
on
that
previous
occasion
,
ending
with
Annixter
’
s
attempt
to
kiss
her
,
Hilma
had
been
talkative
enough
,
chattering
on
from
one
subject
to
another
,
never
at
a
loss
for
a
theme
.
But
this
last
time
was
a
veritable
ordeal
.
No
sooner
had
Annixter
appeared
than
her
heart
leaped
and
quivered
like
that
of
the
hound
-
harried
doe
.
Her
speech
failed
her
.
Throughout
the
whole
brief
interview
she
had
been
miserably
tongue
-
tied
,
stammering
monosyllables
,
confused
,
horribly
awkward
,
and
when
Annixter
had
gone
away
,
she
had
fled
to
her
little
room
,
and
bolting
the
door
,
had
flung
herself
face
downward
on
the
bed
and
wept
as
though
her
heart
were
breaking
,
she
did
not
know
why
.
That
Annixter
had
been
overwhelmed
with
business
all
through
the
winter
was
an
inexpressible
relief
to
Hilma
.
His
affairs
took
him
away
from
the
ranch
continually
.
He
was
absent
sometimes
for
weeks
,
making
trips
to
San
Francisco
,
or
to
Sacramento
,
or
to
Bonneville
.
Perhaps
he
was
forgetting
her
,
overlooking
her
;
and
while
,
at
first
,
she
told
herself
that
she
asked
nothing
better
,
the
idea
of
it
began
to
occupy
her
mind
.
She
began
to
wonder
if
it
was
really
so
.
She
knew
his
trouble
.
Everybody
did
.
The
news
of
the
sudden
forward
movement
of
the
Railroad
’
s
forces
,
inaugurating
the
campaign
,
had
flared
white
-
hot
and
blazing
all
over
the
country
side
.
To
Hilma
’
s
notion
,
Annixter
’
s
attitude
was
heroic
beyond
all
expression
.
His
courage
in
facing
the
Railroad
,
as
he
had
faced
Delaney
in
the
barn
,
seemed
to
her
the
pitch
of
sublimity
.
She
refused
to
see
any
auxiliaries
aiding
him
in
his
fight
.
To
her
imagination
,
the
great
League
,
which
all
the
ranchers
were
joining
,
was
a
mere
form
.
Single
-
handed
,
Annixter
fronted
the
monster
.
But
for
him
the
corporation
would
gobble
Quien
Sabe
,
as
a
whale
would
a
minnow
.
He
was
a
hero
who
stood
between
them
all
and
destruction
.
He
was
a
protector
of
her
family
.
He
was
her
champion
.
She
began
to
mention
him
in
her
prayers
every
night
,
adding
a
further
petition
to
the
effect
that
he
would
become
a
good
man
,
and
that
he
should
not
swear
so
much
,
and
that
he
should
never
meet
Delaney
again
.
However
,
as
Hilma
still
debated
the
idea
of
bathing
her
feet
in
the
creek
,
a
train
did
actually
thunder
past
overhead
—
the
regular
evening
Overland
,
—
the
through
express
,
that
never
stopped
between
Bakersfield
and
Fresno
.
It
stormed
by
with
a
deafening
clamour
,
and
a
swirl
of
smoke
,
in
a
long
succession
of
way
-
coaches
,
and
chocolate
coloured
Pullmans
,
grimy
with
the
dust
of
the
great
deserts
of
the
Southwest
.
The
quivering
of
the
trestle
’
s
supports
set
a
tremble
in
the
ground
underfoot
.
The
thunder
of
wheels
drowned
all
sound
of
the
flowing
of
the
creek
,
and
also
the
noise
of
the
buckskin
mare
’
s
hoofs
descending
from
the
trail
upon
the
gravel
about
the
creek
,
so
that
Hilma
,
turning
about
after
the
passage
of
the
train
,
saw
Annixter
close
at
hand
,
with
the
abruptness
of
a
vision
.
He
was
looking
at
her
,
smiling
as
he
rarely
did
,
the
firm
line
of
his
out
-
thrust
lower
lip
relaxed
good
-
humouredly
.
He
had
taken
off
his
campaign
hat
to
her
,
and
though
his
stiff
,
yellow
hair
was
twisted
into
a
bristling
mop
,
the
little
persistent
tuft
on
the
crown
,
usually
defiantly
erect
as
an
Apache
’
s
scalp
-
lock
,
was
nowhere
in
sight
.
“
Hello
,
it
’
s
you
,
is
it
,
Miss
Hilma
?
”
he
exclaimed
,
getting
down
from
the
buckskin
,
and
allowing
her
to
drink
.
