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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 210/416
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He
turned
on
his
heel
and
strode
away
straight
before
him
,
not
caring
where
he
was
going
.
He
tramped
out
from
the
group
of
ranch
buildings
;
holding
on
over
the
open
reach
of
his
ranch
,
his
teeth
set
,
his
heels
digging
furiously
into
the
ground
.
The
minutes
passed
.
He
walked
on
swiftly
,
muttering
to
himself
from
time
to
time
.
“
Gone
,
by
the
Lord
.
Gone
,
by
the
Lord
.
By
the
Lord
Harry
,
she
’
s
cleared
out
.
”
As
yet
his
head
was
empty
of
all
thought
.
He
could
not
steady
his
wits
to
consider
this
new
turn
of
affairs
.
He
did
not
even
try
.
“
Gone
,
by
the
Lord
,
”
he
exclaimed
.
“
By
the
Lord
,
she
’
s
cleared
out
.
”
He
found
the
irrigating
ditch
,
and
the
beaten
path
made
by
the
ditch
tenders
that
bordered
it
,
and
followed
it
some
five
minutes
;
then
struck
off
at
right
angles
over
the
rugged
surface
of
the
ranch
land
,
to
where
a
great
white
stone
jutted
from
the
ground
.
There
he
sat
down
,
and
leaning
forward
,
rested
his
elbows
on
his
knees
,
and
looked
out
vaguely
into
the
night
,
his
thoughts
swiftly
readjusting
themselves
.
He
was
alone
.
The
silence
of
the
night
,
the
infinite
repose
of
the
flat
,
bare
earth
—
two
immensities
—
widened
around
and
above
him
like
illimitable
seas
.
A
grey
half
-
light
,
mysterious
,
grave
,
flooded
downward
from
the
stars
.
Annixter
was
in
torment
.
Now
,
there
could
be
no
longer
any
doubt
—
now
it
was
Hilma
or
nothing
.
Once
out
of
his
reach
,
once
lost
to
him
,
and
the
recollection
of
her
assailed
him
with
unconquerable
vehemence
.
Much
as
she
had
occupied
his
mind
,
he
had
never
realised
till
now
how
vast
had
been
the
place
she
had
filled
in
his
life
.
He
had
told
her
as
much
,
but
even
then
he
did
not
believe
it
.
Suddenly
,
a
bitter
rage
against
himself
overwhelmed
him
as
he
thought
of
the
hurt
he
had
given
her
the
previous
evening
.
He
should
have
managed
differently
.
How
,
he
did
not
know
,
but
the
sense
of
the
outrage
he
had
put
upon
her
abruptly
recoiled
against
him
with
cruel
force
.
Now
,
he
was
sorry
for
it
,
infinitely
sorry
,
passionately
sorry
.
He
had
hurt
her
.
He
had
brought
the
tears
to
her
eyes
.
He
had
so
flagrantly
insulted
her
that
she
could
no
longer
bear
to
breathe
the
same
air
with
him
.
She
had
told
her
parents
all
.
She
had
left
Quien
Sabe
—
had
left
him
for
good
,
at
the
very
moment
when
he
believed
he
had
won
her
.
Brute
,
beast
that
he
was
,
he
had
driven
her
away
.
An
hour
went
by
;
then
two
,
then
four
,
then
six
.
Annixter
still
sat
in
his
place
,
groping
and
battling
in
a
confusion
of
spirit
,
the
like
of
which
he
had
never
felt
before
.
He
did
not
know
what
was
the
matter
with
him
.
He
could
not
find
his
way
out
of
the
dark
and
out
of
the
turmoil
that
wheeled
around
him
.
He
had
had
no
experience
with
women
.
There
was
no
precedent
to
guide
him
.
