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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 379/416
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In
evident
embarrassment
,
the
young
girl
paused
and
searched
in
her
little
pocketbook
.
“
I
think
I
have
—
I
think
—
I
have
just
ten
cents
here
somewhere
,
”
she
murmured
again
and
again
.
In
the
end
,
she
found
a
dime
,
and
dropped
it
into
Mrs
.
Hooven
’
s
palm
.
That
was
the
beginning
.
The
first
step
once
taken
,
the
others
became
easy
.
All
day
long
,
Mrs
.
Hooven
and
Hilda
followed
the
streets
,
begging
,
begging
.
Here
it
was
a
nickel
,
there
a
dime
,
here
a
nickel
again
.
But
she
was
not
expert
in
the
art
,
nor
did
she
know
where
to
buy
food
the
cheapest
;
and
the
entire
day
’
s
work
resulted
only
in
barely
enough
for
two
meals
of
bread
,
milk
,
and
a
wretchedly
cooked
stew
.
Tuesday
night
found
the
pair
once
more
shelterless
.
Once
more
,
Mrs
.
Hooven
and
her
baby
passed
the
night
on
the
park
benches
.
But
early
on
Wednesday
morning
,
Mrs
.
Hooven
found
herself
assailed
by
sharp
pains
and
cramps
in
her
stomach
.
What
was
the
cause
she
could
not
say
;
but
as
the
day
went
on
,
the
pains
increased
,
alternating
with
hot
flushes
over
all
her
body
,
and
a
certain
weakness
and
faintness
.
As
the
day
went
on
,
the
pain
and
the
weakness
increased
.
When
she
tried
to
walk
,
she
found
she
could
do
so
only
with
the
greatest
difficulty
.
Here
was
fresh
misfortune
.
To
beg
,
she
must
walk
.
Dragging
herself
forward
a
half
-
block
at
a
time
,
she
regained
the
street
once
more
.
She
succeeded
in
begging
a
couple
of
nickels
,
bought
a
bag
of
apples
from
a
vender
,
and
,
returning
to
the
park
,
sank
exhausted
upon
a
bench
.
Here
she
remained
all
day
until
evening
,
Hilda
alternately
whimpering
for
her
bread
and
milk
,
or
playing
languidly
in
the
gravel
walk
at
her
feet
.
In
the
evening
,
she
started
out
again
.
This
time
,
it
was
bitter
hard
.
Nobody
seemed
inclined
to
give
.
Twice
she
was
“
moved
on
”
by
policemen
.
Two
hours
’
begging
elicited
but
a
single
dime
.
With
this
,
she
bought
Hilda
’
s
bread
and
milk
,
and
refusing
herself
to
eat
,
returned
to
the
bench
—
the
only
home
she
knew
—
and
spent
the
night
shivering
with
cold
,
burning
with
fever
.
From
Wednesday
morning
till
Friday
evening
,
with
the
exception
of
the
few
apples
she
had
bought
,
and
a
quarter
of
a
loaf
of
hard
bread
that
she
found
in
a
greasy
newspaper
—
scraps
of
a
workman
’
s
dinner
—
Mrs
.
Hooven
had
nothing
to
eat
.
In
her
weakened
condition
,
begging
became
hourly
more
difficult
,
and
such
little
money
as
was
given
her
,
she
resolutely
spent
on
Hilda
’
s
bread
and
milk
in
the
morning
and
evening
.
By
Friday
afternoon
,
she
was
very
weak
,
indeed
.
Her
eyes
troubled
her
.
She
could
no
longer
see
distinctly
,
and
at
times
there
appeared
to
her
curious
figures
,
huge
crystal
goblets
of
the
most
graceful
shapes
,
floating
and
swaying
in
the
air
in
front
of
her
,
almost
within
arm
’
s
reach
.
Vases
of
elegant
forms
,
made
of
shimmering
glass
,
bowed
and
courtesied
toward
her
.
Glass
bulbs
took
graceful
and
varying
shapes
before
her
vision
,
now
rounding
into
globes
,
now
evolving
into
hour
-
glasses
,
now
twisting
into
pretzel
-
shaped
convolutions
.
“
Mammy
,
I
’
m
hungry
,
”
insisted
Hilda
,
passing
her
hands
over
her
face
.
Mrs
.
Hooven
started
and
woke
.
It
was
Friday
evening
.
Already
the
street
lamps
were
being
lit
.
