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- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
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- Стр. 333/351
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Just
so
had
she
lied
to
Tommy
last
night
,
swearing
to
him
that
never
before
had
she
so
entirely
,
so
completely
,
so
utterly
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
then
remorse
for
this
moment
of
betrayal
,
which
so
cavalierly
belittled
a
decade
of
her
life
,
turned
her
walk
toward
Dick
’
s
sanctuary
.
Approaching
noiselessly
she
saw
him
behind
his
cottage
,
sitting
in
a
steamer
chair
by
the
cliff
wall
,
and
for
a
moment
she
regarded
him
silently
.
He
was
thinking
,
he
was
living
a
world
completely
his
own
and
in
the
small
motions
of
his
face
,
the
brow
raised
or
lowered
,
the
eyes
narrowed
or
widened
,
the
lips
set
and
reset
,
the
play
of
his
hands
,
she
saw
him
progress
from
phase
to
phase
of
his
own
story
spinning
out
inside
him
,
his
own
,
not
hers
.
Once
he
clenched
his
fists
and
leaned
forward
,
once
it
brought
into
his
face
an
expression
of
torment
and
despair
—
when
this
passed
its
stamp
lingered
in
his
eyes
.
For
almost
the
first
time
in
her
life
she
was
sorry
for
him
—
it
is
hard
for
those
who
have
once
been
mentally
afflicted
to
be
sorry
for
those
who
are
well
,
and
though
Nicole
often
paid
lip
service
to
the
fact
that
he
had
led
her
back
to
the
world
she
had
forfeited
,
she
had
thought
of
him
really
as
an
inexhaustible
energy
,
incapable
of
fatigue
—
she
forgot
the
troubles
she
caused
him
at
the
moment
when
she
forgot
the
troubles
of
her
own
that
had
prompted
her
.
That
he
no
longer
controlled
her
—
did
he
know
that
?
Had
he
willed
it
all
?
—
she
felt
as
sorry
for
him
as
she
had
sometimes
felt
for
Abe
North
and
his
ignoble
destiny
,
sorry
as
for
the
helplessness
of
infants
and
the
old
.
She
went
up
putting
her
arm
around
his
shoulder
and
touching
their
heads
together
said
:
"
Don
’
t
be
sad
.
"
He
looked
at
her
coldly
.
"
Don
’
t
touch
me
!
"
he
said
.
Confused
she
moved
a
few
feet
away
.
"
Excuse
me
,
"
he
continued
abstractedly
.
"
I
was
just
thinking
what
I
thought
of
you
—
"
"
Why
not
add
the
new
classification
to
your
book
?
"
