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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 384/416
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“
Honora
,
”
said
Mrs
.
Gerard
,
turning
to
her
daughter
,
at
that
moment
in
conversation
with
the
languid
Lambert
,
“
Honora
,
entends
-
tu
,
ma
cherie
,
l
’
esprit
de
notre
jeune
Lamartine
.
”
Mrs
.
Hooven
went
on
,
stumbling
from
street
to
street
,
holding
Hilda
to
her
breast
.
Famine
gnawed
incessantly
at
her
stomach
;
walk
though
she
might
,
turn
upon
her
tracks
up
and
down
the
streets
,
back
to
the
avenue
again
,
incessantly
and
relentlessly
the
torture
dug
into
her
vitals
.
She
was
hungry
,
hungry
,
and
if
the
want
of
food
harassed
and
rended
her
,
full
-
grown
woman
that
she
was
,
what
must
it
be
in
the
poor
,
starved
stomach
of
her
little
girl
?
Oh
,
for
some
helping
hand
now
,
oh
,
for
one
little
mouthful
,
one
little
nibble
!
Food
,
food
,
all
her
wrecked
body
clamoured
for
nourishment
;
anything
to
numb
those
gnawing
teeth
—
an
abandoned
loaf
,
hard
,
mouldered
;
a
half
-
eaten
fruit
,
yes
,
even
the
refuse
of
the
gutter
,
even
the
garbage
of
the
ash
heap
.
On
she
went
,
peering
into
dark
corners
,
into
the
areaways
,
anywhere
,
everywhere
,
watching
the
silent
prowling
of
cats
,
the
intent
rovings
of
stray
dogs
.
But
she
was
growing
weaker
;
the
pains
and
cramps
in
her
stomach
returned
.
Hilda
’
s
weight
bore
her
to
the
pavement
.
More
than
once
a
great
giddiness
,
a
certain
wheeling
faintness
all
but
overcame
her
.
Hilda
,
however
,
was
asleep
.
To
wake
her
would
only
mean
to
revive
her
to
the
consciousness
of
hunger
;
yet
how
to
carry
her
further
?
Mrs
.
Hooven
began
to
fear
that
she
would
fall
with
her
child
in
her
arms
.
The
terror
of
a
collapse
upon
those
cold
pavements
glistening
with
fog
-
damp
roused
her
;
she
must
make
an
effort
to
get
through
the
night
.
She
rallied
all
her
strength
,
and
pausing
a
moment
to
shift
the
weight
of
her
baby
to
the
other
arm
,
once
more
set
off
through
the
night
.
A
little
while
later
she
found
on
the
edge
of
the
sidewalk
the
peeling
of
a
banana
.
It
had
been
trodden
upon
and
it
was
muddy
,
but
joyfully
she
caught
it
up
.
“
Hilda
,
”
she
cried
,
“
wake
oop
,
leedle
girl
.
See
,
loog
den
,
dere
’
s
somedings
to
eat
.
Look
den
,
hey
?
Dat
’
s
goot
,
ain
’
t
it
?
Zum
bunaner
.
”
But
it
could
not
be
eaten
.
Decayed
,
dirty
,
all
but
rotting
,
the
stomach
turned
from
the
refuse
,
nauseated
.
“
No
,
no
,
”
cried
Hilda
,
“
that
’
s
not
good
.
I
can
’
t
eat
it
.
Oh
,
Mammy
,
please
gif
me
those
bread
’
n
milk
.
”
By
now
the
guests
of
Mrs
.
Gerard
had
come
to
the
entrees
—
Londonderry
pheasants
,
escallops
of
duck
,
and
rissolettes
a
la
pompadour
.
The
wine
was
Chateau
Latour
.
All
around
the
table
conversations
were
going
forward
gayly
.
The
good
wines
had
broken
up
the
slight
restraint
of
the
early
part
of
the
evening
and
a
spirit
of
good
humour
and
good
fellowship
prevailed
.
Young
Lambert
and
Mr
.
Gerard
were
deep
in
reminiscences
of
certain
mutual
duck
-
shooting
expeditions
.
Mrs
.
Gerard
and
Mrs
.
Cedarquist
discussed
a
novel
—
a
strange
mingling
of
psychology
,
degeneracy
,
and
analysis
of
erotic
conditions
—
which
had
just
been
translated
from
the
Italian
.
Stephen
Lambert
and
Beatrice
disputed
over
the
merits
of
a
Scotch
collie
just
given
to
the
young
lady
.
The
scene
was
gay
,
the
electric
bulbs
sparkled
,
the
wine
flashing
back
the
light
.
The
entire
table
was
a
vague
glow
of
white
napery
,
delicate
china
,
and
glass
as
brilliant
as
crystal
.
Behind
the
guests
the
serving
-
men
came
and
went
,
filling
the
glasses
continually
,
changing
the
covers
,
serving
the
entrees
,
managing
the
dinner
without
interruption
,
confusion
,
or
the
slightest
unnecessary
noise
.
But
Presley
could
find
no
enjoyment
in
the
occasion
.
From
that
picture
of
feasting
,
that
scene
of
luxury
,
that
atmosphere
of
decorous
,
well
-
bred
refinement
,
his
thoughts
went
back
to
Los
Muertos
and
Quien
Sabe
and
the
irrigating
ditch
at
Hooven
’
s
.
He
saw
them
fall
,
one
by
one
,
Harran
,
Annixter
,
Osterman
,
Broderson
,
Hooven
.
The
clink
of
the
wine
glasses
was
drowned
in
the
explosion
of
revolvers
.
The
Railroad
might
indeed
be
a
force
only
,
which
no
man
could
control
and
for
which
no
man
was
responsible
,
but
his
friends
had
been
killed
,
but
years
of
extortion
and
oppression
had
wrung
money
from
all
the
San
Joaquin
,
money
that
had
made
possible
this
very
scene
in
which
he
found
himself
.
Because
Magnus
had
been
beggared
,
Gerard
had
become
Railroad
King
;
because
the
farmers
of
the
valley
were
poor
,
these
men
were
rich
.
