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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
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- Стр. 402/416
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“
Not
so
much
probably
as
you
have
gained
by
killing
Harran
and
Annixter
.
But
that
’
s
all
passed
now
.
You
’
re
safe
from
me
.
”
The
strangeness
of
this
talk
,
the
oddity
of
the
situation
burst
upon
him
and
he
laughed
aloud
.
“
It
don
’
t
seem
as
though
you
could
be
brought
to
book
,
S
.
Behrman
,
by
anybody
,
or
by
any
means
,
does
it
?
They
can
’
t
get
at
you
through
the
courts
,
—
the
law
can
’
t
get
you
,
Dyke
’
s
pistol
missed
fire
for
just
your
benefit
,
and
you
even
escaped
Caraher
’
s
six
inches
of
plugged
gas
pipe
.
Just
what
are
we
going
to
do
with
you
?
”
“
Best
give
it
up
,
Pres
,
my
boy
,
”
returned
the
other
.
“
I
guess
there
ain
’
t
anything
can
touch
me
.
Well
,
Magnus
,
”
he
said
,
turning
once
more
to
the
Governor
.
“
Well
,
I
’
ll
think
over
what
you
say
,
and
let
you
know
if
I
can
get
the
place
for
you
in
a
day
or
two
.
You
see
,
”
he
added
,
“
you
’
re
getting
pretty
old
,
Magnus
Derrick
.
”
Presley
flung
himself
from
the
room
,
unable
any
longer
to
witness
the
depths
into
which
Magnus
had
fallen
.
What
other
scenes
of
degradation
were
enacted
in
that
room
,
how
much
further
S
.
Behrman
carried
the
humiliation
,
he
did
not
know
.
He
suddenly
felt
that
the
air
of
the
office
was
choking
him
.
He
hurried
up
to
what
once
had
been
his
own
room
.
On
his
way
he
could
not
but
note
that
much
of
the
house
was
in
disarray
,
a
great
packing
-
up
was
in
progress
;
trunks
,
half
-
full
,
stood
in
the
hallways
,
crates
and
cases
in
a
litter
of
straw
encumbered
the
rooms
.
The
servants
came
and
went
with
armfuls
of
books
,
ornaments
,
articles
of
clothing
.
Presley
took
from
his
room
only
a
few
manuscripts
and
note
-
books
,
and
a
small
valise
full
of
his
personal
effects
;
at
the
doorway
he
paused
and
,
holding
the
knob
of
the
door
in
his
hand
,
looked
back
into
the
room
a
very
long
time
.
He
descended
to
the
lower
floor
and
entered
the
dining
-
room
.
Mrs
.
Derrick
had
disappeared
.
Presley
stood
for
a
long
moment
in
front
of
the
fireplace
,
looking
about
the
room
,
remembering
the
scenes
that
he
had
witnessed
there
—
the
conference
when
Osterman
had
first
suggested
the
fight
for
Railroad
Commissioner
and
then
later
the
attack
on
Lyman
Derrick
and
the
sudden
revelation
of
that
inconceivable
treachery
.
But
as
he
stood
considering
these
things
a
door
to
his
right
opened
and
Hilma
entered
the
room
.
Presley
came
forward
,
holding
out
his
hand
,
all
unable
to
believe
his
eyes
.
It
was
a
woman
,
grave
,
dignified
,
composed
,
who
advanced
to
meet
him
.
Hilma
was
dressed
in
black
,
the
cut
and
fashion
of
the
gown
severe
,
almost
monastic
.
All
the
little
feminine
and
contradictory
daintinesses
were
nowhere
to
be
seen
.
Her
statuesque
calm
evenness
of
contour
yet
remained
,
but
it
was
the
calmness
of
great
sorrow
,
of
infinite
resignation
.
Beautiful
she
still
remained
,
but
she
was
older
.
The
seriousness
of
one
who
has
gained
the
knowledge
of
the
world
—
knowledge
of
its
evil
—
seemed
to
envelope
her
.
The
calm
gravity
of
a
great
suffering
past
,
but
not
forgotten
,
sat
upon
her
.
Not
yet
twenty
-
one
,
she
exhibited
the
demeanour
of
a
woman
of
forty
.
The
one
-
time
amplitude
of
her
figure
,
the
fulness
of
hip
and
shoulder
,
the
great
deep
swell
from
waist
to
throat
were
gone
.
She
had
grown
thinner
and
,
in
consequence
,
seemed
unusually
,
almost
unnaturally
tall
.
Her
neck
was
slender
,
the
outline
of
her
full
lips
and
round
chin
was
a
little
sharp
;
her
arms
,
those
wonderful
,
beautiful
arms
of
hers
,
were
a
little
shrunken
.
But
her
eyes
were
as
wide
open
as
always
,
rimmed
as
ever
by
the
thin
,
intensely
black
line
of
the
lashes
and
her
brown
,
fragrant
hair
was
still
thick
,
still
,
at
times
,
glittered
and
coruscated
in
the
sun
.
When
she
spoke
,
it
was
with
the
old
-
time
velvety
huskiness
of
voice
that
Annixter
had
learned
to
love
so
well
.
“
Oh
,
it
is
you
,
”
she
said
,
giving
him
her
hand
.
“
You
were
good
to
want
to
see
me
before
you
left
.
I
hear
that
you
are
going
away
.
”
