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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 356/416
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“
German
woman
,
with
a
little
girl
-
baby
,
and
an
older
daughter
,
sure
.
The
older
daughter
was
main
pretty
.
Sure
I
remember
them
,
but
they
ain
’
t
here
no
more
.
They
left
a
week
ago
.
I
had
to
ask
them
for
their
room
.
As
it
was
,
they
owed
a
week
’
s
room
-
rent
.
Mister
,
I
can
’
t
afford
—
—
”
“
Well
,
do
you
know
where
they
went
?
Did
you
hear
what
address
they
had
their
trunk
expressed
to
?
”
“
Ah
,
yes
,
their
trunk
,
”
vociferated
the
woman
,
clapping
her
hands
to
her
hips
,
her
face
purpling
.
“
Their
trunk
,
ah
,
sure
.
I
got
their
trunk
,
and
what
are
you
going
to
do
about
it
?
I
’
m
holding
it
till
I
get
my
money
.
What
have
you
got
to
say
about
it
?
Let
’
s
hear
it
.
”
Presley
turned
away
with
a
gesture
of
discouragement
,
his
heart
sinking
.
On
the
street
corner
he
stood
for
a
long
time
,
frowning
in
trouble
and
perplexity
.
His
suspicions
had
been
only
too
well
founded
.
So
long
ago
as
a
week
,
the
Hoovens
had
exhausted
all
their
little
store
of
money
.
For
seven
days
now
they
had
been
without
resources
,
unless
,
indeed
,
work
had
been
found
;
“
and
what
,
”
he
asked
himself
,
“
what
work
in
God
’
s
name
could
they
find
to
do
here
in
the
city
?
”
Seven
days
!
He
quailed
at
the
thought
of
it
.
Seven
days
without
money
,
knowing
not
a
soul
in
all
that
swarming
city
.
Ignorant
of
city
life
as
both
Minna
and
her
mother
were
,
would
they
even
realise
that
there
were
institutions
built
and
generously
endowed
for
just
such
as
they
?
He
knew
them
to
have
their
share
of
pride
,
the
dogged
sullen
pride
of
the
peasant
;
even
if
they
knew
of
charitable
organisations
,
would
they
,
could
they
bring
themselves
to
apply
there
?
A
poignant
anxiety
thrust
itself
sharply
into
Presley
’
s
heart
.
Where
were
they
now
?
Where
had
they
slept
last
night
?
Where
breakfasted
this
morning
?
Had
there
even
been
any
breakfast
this
morning
?
Had
there
even
been
any
bed
last
night
?
Lost
,
and
forgotten
in
the
plexus
of
the
city
’
s
life
,
what
had
befallen
them
?
Towards
what
fate
was
the
ebb
tide
of
the
streets
drifting
them
?
Was
this
to
be
still
another
theme
wrought
out
by
iron
hands
upon
the
old
,
the
world
-
old
,
world
-
wide
keynote
?
How
far
were
the
consequences
of
that
dreadful
day
’
s
work
at
the
irrigating
ditch
to
reach
?
To
what
length
was
the
tentacle
of
the
monster
to
extend
?
Presley
returned
toward
the
central
,
the
business
quarter
of
the
city
,
alternately
formulating
and
dismissing
from
his
mind
plan
after
plan
for
the
finding
and
aiding
of
Mrs
.
Hooven
and
her
daughters
.
He
reached
Montgomery
Street
,
and
turned
toward
his
club
,
his
imagination
once
more
reviewing
all
the
causes
and
circumstances
of
the
great
battle
of
which
for
the
last
eighteen
months
he
had
been
witness
.
All
at
once
he
paused
,
his
eye
caught
by
a
sign
affixed
to
the
wall
just
inside
the
street
entrance
of
a
huge
office
building
,
and
smitten
with
an
idea
,
stood
for
an
instant
motionless
,
upon
the
sidewalk
,
his
eyes
wide
,
his
fists
shut
tight
.
