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- Фрэнк Норрис
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- Стр. 88/416
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“
You
were
,
hey
?
”
observed
Annixter
,
for
the
sake
of
saying
something
.
“
Afraid
in
the
dark
?
What
of
—
ghosts
?
”
“
N
-
no
;
I
don
’
t
know
what
.
I
wanted
the
light
,
I
wanted
—
—
”
She
drew
a
deep
breath
,
turning
towards
the
window
and
spreading
her
pink
finger
-
tips
to
the
light
.
“
Oh
,
the
SUN
.
I
love
the
sun
.
See
,
put
your
hand
there
—
here
on
the
top
of
the
vat
—
like
that
.
Isn
’
t
it
warm
?
Isn
’
t
it
fine
?
And
don
’
t
you
love
to
see
it
coming
in
like
that
through
the
windows
,
floods
of
it
;
and
all
the
little
dust
in
it
shining
?
Where
there
is
lots
of
sunlight
,
I
think
the
people
must
be
very
good
.
It
’
s
only
wicked
people
that
love
the
dark
.
And
the
wicked
things
are
always
done
and
planned
in
the
dark
,
I
think
.
Perhaps
,
too
,
that
’
s
why
I
hate
things
that
are
mysterious
—
things
that
I
can
’
t
see
,
that
happen
in
the
dark
.
”
She
wrinkled
her
nose
with
a
little
expression
of
aversion
.
“
I
hate
a
mystery
.
Maybe
that
’
s
why
I
am
afraid
in
the
dark
—
or
was
.
I
shouldn
’
t
like
to
think
that
anything
could
happen
around
me
that
I
couldn
’
t
see
or
understand
or
explain
.
”
She
ran
on
from
subject
to
subject
,
positively
garrulous
,
talking
in
her
low
-
pitched
voice
of
velvety
huskiness
for
the
mere
enjoyment
of
putting
her
ideas
into
speech
,
innocently
assuming
that
they
were
quite
as
interesting
to
others
as
to
herself
.
She
was
yet
a
great
child
,
ignoring
the
fact
that
she
had
ever
grown
up
,
taking
a
child
’
s
interest
in
her
immediate
surroundings
,
direct
,
straightforward
,
plain
.
While
speaking
,
she
continued
about
her
work
,
rinsing
out
the
cans
with
a
mixture
of
hot
water
and
soda
,
scouring
them
bright
,
and
piling
them
in
the
sunlight
on
top
of
the
vat
.
Obliquely
,
and
from
between
his
narrowed
lids
,
Annixter
scrutinised
her
from
time
to
time
,
more
and
more
won
over
by
her
adorable
freshness
,
her
clean
,
fine
youth
.
The
clumsiness
that
he
usually
experienced
in
the
presence
of
women
was
wearing
off
.
Hilma
Tree
’
s
direct
simplicity
put
him
at
his
ease
.
He
began
to
wonder
if
he
dared
to
kiss
Hilma
,
and
if
he
did
dare
,
how
she
would
take
it
.
A
spark
of
suspicion
flickered
up
in
his
mind
.
Did
not
her
manner
imply
,
vaguely
,
an
invitation
?
One
never
could
tell
with
feemales
.
That
was
why
she
was
talking
so
much
,
no
doubt
,
holding
him
there
,
affording
the
opportunity
.
Aha
!
She
had
best
look
out
,
or
he
would
take
her
at
her
word
.
“
Oh
,
I
had
forgotten
,
”
suddenly
exclaimed
Hilma
,
“
the
very
thing
I
wanted
to
show
you
—
the
new
press
.
You
remember
I
asked
for
one
last
month
?
This
is
it
.
See
,
this
is
how
it
works
.
Here
is
where
the
curds
go
;
look
.
And
this
cover
is
screwed
down
like
this
,
and
then
you
work
the
lever
this
way
.
”
She
grasped
the
lever
in
both
hands
,
throwing
her
weight
upon
it
,
her
smooth
,
bare
arm
swelling
round
and
firm
with
the
effort
,
one
slim
foot
,
in
its
low
shoe
set
off
with
the
bright
,
steel
buckle
,
braced
against
the
wall
.
“
My
,
but
that
takes
strength
,
”
she
panted
,
looking
up
at
him
and
smiling
.
“
But
isn
’
t
it
a
fine
press
?
Just
what
we
needed
.
”
“
And
,
”
Annixter
cleared
his
throat
,
“
and
where
do
you
keep
the
cheeses
and
the
butter
?
”
He
thought
it
very
likely
that
these
were
in
the
cellar
of
the
dairy
.
“
In
the
cellar
,
”
answered
Hilma
.
“
Down
here
,
see
?
”
She
raised
the
flap
of
the
cellar
door
at
the
end
of
the
room
.
“
Would
you
like
to
see
?
Come
down
;
I
’
ll
show
you
.
”
