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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 191/416
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“
Say
what
?
”
“
Our
marriage
,
I
mean
.
”
“
Why
get
married
,
then
?
What
’
s
the
good
of
all
that
fuss
about
it
?
I
don
’
t
go
anything
upon
a
minister
puddling
round
in
my
affairs
.
What
’
s
the
difference
,
anyhow
?
We
understand
each
other
.
Isn
’
t
that
enough
?
Pshaw
,
Hilma
,
I
’
M
no
marrying
man
.
”
She
looked
at
him
a
moment
,
bewildered
,
then
slowly
she
took
his
meaning
.
She
rose
to
her
feet
,
her
eyes
wide
,
her
face
paling
with
terror
.
He
did
not
look
at
her
,
but
he
could
hear
the
catch
in
her
throat
.
“
Oh
!
”
she
exclaimed
,
with
a
long
,
deep
breath
,
and
again
“
Oh
!
”
the
back
of
her
hand
against
her
lips
.
It
was
a
quick
gasp
of
a
veritable
physical
anguish
.
Her
eyes
brimmed
over
.
Annixter
rose
,
looking
at
her
.
“
Well
?
”
he
said
,
awkwardly
,
“
Well
?
”
Hilma
leaped
back
from
him
with
an
instinctive
recoil
of
her
whole
being
,
throwing
out
her
hands
in
a
gesture
of
defence
,
fearing
she
knew
not
what
.
There
was
as
yet
no
sense
of
insult
in
her
mind
,
no
outraged
modesty
.
She
was
only
terrified
.
It
was
as
though
searching
for
wild
flowers
she
had
come
suddenly
upon
a
snake
.
She
stood
for
an
instant
,
spellbound
,
her
eyes
wide
,
her
bosom
swelling
;
then
,
all
at
once
,
turned
and
fled
,
darting
across
the
plank
that
served
for
a
foot
bridge
over
the
creek
,
gaining
the
opposite
bank
and
disappearing
with
a
brisk
rustle
of
underbrush
,
such
as
might
have
been
made
by
the
flight
of
a
frightened
fawn
.
