-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
-
- По эту сторону рая
-
- Стр. 259/348
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
advent
of
prohibition
with
the
"
thirsty-first
"
put
a
sudden
stop
to
the
submerging
of
Amory
's
sorrows
,
and
when
he
awoke
one
morning
to
find
that
the
old
bar-to-bar
days
were
over
,
he
had
neither
remorse
for
the
past
three
weeks
nor
regret
that
their
repetition
was
impossible
.
He
had
taken
the
most
violent
,
if
the
weakest
,
method
to
shield
himself
from
the
stabs
of
memory
,
and
while
it
was
not
a
course
he
would
have
prescribed
for
others
,
he
found
in
the
end
that
it
had
done
its
business
:
he
was
over
the
first
flush
of
pain
.
Do
n't
misunderstand
!
Amory
had
loved
Rosalind
as
he
would
never
love
another
living
person
.
She
had
taken
the
first
flush
of
his
youth
and
brought
from
his
unplumbed
depths
tenderness
that
had
surprised
him
,
gentleness
and
unselfishness
that
he
had
never
given
to
another
creature
.
He
had
later
love-affairs
,
but
of
a
different
sort
:
in
those
he
went
back
to
that
,
perhaps
,
more
typical
frame
of
mind
,
in
which
the
girl
became
the
mirror
of
a
mood
in
him
.
Rosalind
had
drawn
out
what
was
more
than
passionate
admiration
;
he
had
a
deep
,
undying
affection
for
Rosalind
.
But
there
had
been
,
near
the
end
,
so
much
dramatic
tragedy
,
culminating
in
the
arabesque
nightmare
of
his
three
weeks
'
spree
,
that
he
was
emotionally
worn
out
.
The
people
and
surroundings
that
he
remembered
as
being
cool
or
delicately
artificial
,
seemed
to
promise
him
a
refuge
.
He
wrote
a
cynical
story
which
featured
his
father
's
funeral
and
despatched
it
to
a
magazine
,
receiving
in
return
a
check
for
sixty
dollars
and
a
request
for
more
of
the
same
tone
.
This
tickled
his
vanity
,
but
inspired
him
to
no
further
effort
.
He
read
enormously
.
He
was
puzzled
and
depressed
by
"
A
Portrait
of
the
Artist
as
a
Young
Man
"
;
intensely
interested
by
"
Joan
and
Peter
"
and
"
The
Undying
Fire
,
"
and
rather
surprised
by
his
discovery
through
a
critic
named
Mencken
of
several
excellent
American
novels
:
"
Vandover
and
the
Brute
,
"
"
The
Damnation
of
Theron
Ware
,
"
and
"
Jennie
Gerhardt
.
"
Mackenzie
,
Chesterton
,
Galsworthy
,
Bennett
,
had
sunk
in
his
appreciation
from
sagacious
,
life-saturated
geniuses
to
merely
diverting
contemporaries
.
Shaw
's
aloof
clarity
and
brilliant
consistency
and
the
gloriously
intoxicated
efforts
of
H.
G.
Wells
to
fit
the
key
of
romantic
symmetry
into
the
elusive
lock
of
truth
,
alone
won
his
rapt
attention
.
He
wanted
to
see
Monsignor
Darcy
,
to
whom
he
had
written
when
he
landed
,
but
he
had
not
heard
from
him
;
besides
he
knew
that
a
visit
to
Monsignor
would
entail
the
story
of
Rosalind
,
and
the
thought
of
repeating
it
turned
him
cold
with
horror
.
In
his
search
for
cool
people
he
remembered
Mrs.
Lawrence
,
a
very
intelligent
,
very
dignified
lady
,
a
convert
to
the
church
,
and
a
great
devotee
of
Monsignor
's
.
He
called
her
on
the
'
phone
one
day
.
Yes
,
she
remembered
him
perfectly
;
no
,
Monsignor
was
n't
in
town
,
was
in
Boston
she
thought
;
he
'd
promised
to
come
to
dinner
when
he
returned
.
Could
n't
Amory
take
luncheon
with
her
?
"
I
thought
I
'd
better
catch
up
,
Mrs.
Lawrence
,
"
he
said
rather
ambiguously
when
he
arrived
.
