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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 237/416
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Annixter
had
engaged
an
entire
section
,
and
after
he
and
his
wife
went
to
bed
had
the
porter
close
the
upper
berth
.
Hilma
sat
up
in
bed
to
say
her
prayers
,
both
hands
over
her
face
,
and
then
kissing
Annixter
good
-
night
,
went
to
sleep
with
the
directness
of
a
little
child
,
holding
his
hand
in
both
her
own
.
Annixter
,
who
never
could
sleep
on
the
train
,
dozed
and
tossed
and
fretted
for
hours
,
consulting
his
watch
and
time
-
table
whenever
there
was
a
stop
;
twice
he
rose
to
get
a
drink
of
ice
water
,
and
between
whiles
was
forever
sitting
up
in
the
narrow
berth
,
stretching
himself
and
yawning
,
murmuring
with
uncertain
relevance
:
“
Oh
,
Lord
!
Oh
-
h
-
h
LORD
!
”
There
were
some
dozen
other
passengers
in
the
car
—
a
lady
with
three
children
,
a
group
of
school
-
teachers
,
a
couple
of
drummers
,
a
stout
gentleman
with
whiskers
,
and
a
well
-
dressed
young
man
in
a
plaid
travelling
cap
,
whom
Annixter
had
observed
before
supper
time
reading
Daudet
’
s
“
Tartarin
”
in
the
French
.
But
by
nine
o
’
clock
,
all
these
people
were
in
their
berths
.
Occasionally
,
above
the
rhythmic
rumble
of
the
wheels
,
Annixter
could
hear
one
of
the
lady
’
s
children
fidgeting
and
complaining
.
The
stout
gentleman
snored
monotonously
in
two
notes
,
one
a
rasping
bass
,
the
other
a
prolonged
treble
.
At
intervals
,
a
brakeman
or
the
passenger
conductor
pushed
down
the
aisle
,
between
the
curtains
,
his
red
and
white
lamp
over
his
arm
.
Looking
out
into
the
car
Annixter
saw
in
an
end
section
where
the
berths
had
not
been
made
up
,
the
porter
,
in
his
white
duck
coat
,
dozing
,
his
mouth
wide
open
,
his
head
on
his
shoulder
.
The
hours
passed
.
Midnight
came
and
went
.
Annixter
,
checking
off
the
stations
,
noted
their
passage
of
Modesto
,
Merced
,
and
Madeira
.
Then
,
after
another
broken
nap
,
he
lost
count
.
He
wondered
where
they
were
.
Had
they
reached
Fresno
yet
?
Raising
the
window
curtain
,
he
made
a
shade
with
both
hands
on
either
side
of
his
face
and
looked
out
.
The
night
was
thick
,
dark
,
clouded
over
.
A
fine
rain
was
falling
,
leaving
horizontal
streaks
on
the
glass
of
the
outside
window
.
Only
the
faintest
grey
blur
indicated
the
sky
.
Everything
else
was
impenetrable
blackness
.
“
I
think
sure
we
must
have
passed
Fresno
,
”
he
muttered
.
He
looked
at
his
watch
.
It
was
about
half
-
past
three
.
“
If
we
have
passed
Fresno
,
”
he
said
to
himself
,
“
I
’
d
better
wake
the
little
girl
pretty
soon
.
She
’
ll
need
about
an
hour
to
dress
.
Better
find
out
for
sure
.
”
He
drew
on
his
trousers
and
shoes
,
got
into
his
coat
,
and
stepped
out
into
the
aisle
.
In
the
seat
that
had
been
occupied
by
the
porter
,
the
Pullman
conductor
,
his
cash
box
and
car
-
schedules
before
him
,
was
checking
up
his
berths
,
a
blue
pencil
behind
his
ear
.
“
What
’
s
the
next
stop
,
Captain
?
”
inquired
Annixter
,
coming
up
.
“
Have
we
reached
Fresno
yet
?
”
