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- Генри Джеймс
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- Поворот винта
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- Стр. 52/93
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There
appears
to
me
,
moreover
,
as
I
look
back
,
no
note
in
all
this
more
extraordinary
than
the
mere
fact
that
,
in
spite
of
my
tension
and
of
their
triumph
,
I
never
lost
patience
with
them
.
Adorable
they
must
in
truth
have
been
,
I
now
reflect
,
that
I
did
n't
in
these
days
hate
them
!
Would
exasperation
,
however
,
if
relief
had
longer
been
postponed
,
finally
have
betrayed
me
?
It
little
matters
,
for
relief
arrived
.
I
call
it
relief
,
though
it
was
only
the
relief
that
a
snap
brings
to
a
strain
or
the
burst
of
a
thunderstorm
to
a
day
of
suffocation
.
It
was
at
least
change
,
and
it
came
with
a
rush
.
Walking
to
church
a
certain
Sunday
morning
,
I
had
little
Miles
at
my
side
and
his
sister
,
in
advance
of
us
and
at
Mrs.
Grose
's
,
well
in
sight
.
It
was
a
crisp
,
clear
day
,
the
first
of
its
order
for
some
time
;
the
night
had
brought
a
touch
of
frost
,
and
the
autumn
air
,
bright
and
sharp
,
made
the
church
bells
almost
gay
.
It
was
an
odd
accident
of
thought
that
I
should
have
happened
at
such
a
moment
to
be
particularly
and
very
gratefully
struck
with
the
obedience
of
my
little
charges
.
Why
did
they
never
resent
my
inexorable
,
my
perpetual
society
?
Something
or
other
had
brought
nearer
home
to
me
that
I
had
all
but
pinned
the
boy
to
my
shawl
and
that
,
in
the
way
our
companions
were
marshaled
before
me
,
I
might
have
appeared
to
provide
against
some
danger
of
rebellion
.
I
was
like
a
gaoler
with
an
eye
to
possible
surprises
and
escapes
.
But
all
this
belonged
--
I
mean
their
magnificent
little
surrender
--
just
to
the
special
array
of
the
facts
that
were
most
abysmal
.
Turned
out
for
Sunday
by
his
uncle
's
tailor
,
who
had
had
a
free
hand
and
a
notion
of
pretty
waistcoats
and
of
his
grand
little
air
,
Miles
's
whole
title
to
independence
,
the
rights
of
his
sex
and
situation
,
were
so
stamped
upon
him
that
if
he
had
suddenly
struck
for
freedom
I
should
have
had
nothing
to
say
.
I
was
by
the
strangest
of
chances
wondering
how
I
should
meet
him
when
the
revolution
unmistakably
occurred
.
I
call
it
a
revolution
because
I
now
see
how
,
with
the
word
he
spoke
,
the
curtain
rose
on
the
last
act
of
my
dreadful
drama
,
and
the
catastrophe
was
precipitated
.
"
Look
here
,
my
dear
,
you
know
,
"
he
charmingly
said
,
"
when
in
the
world
,
please
,
am
I
going
back
to
school
?
"
Transcribed
here
the
speech
sounds
harmless
enough
,
particularly
as
uttered
in
the
sweet
,
high
,
casual
pipe
with
which
,
at
all
interlocutors
,
but
above
all
at
his
eternal
governess
,
he
threw
off
intonations
as
if
he
were
tossing
roses
.
There
was
something
in
them
that
always
made
one
"
catch
,
"
and
I
caught
,
at
any
rate
,
now
so
effectually
that
I
stopped
as
short
as
if
one
of
the
trees
of
the
park
had
fallen
across
the
road
.
There
was
something
new
,
on
the
spot
,
between
us
,
and
he
was
perfectly
aware
that
I
recognized
it
,
though
,
to
enable
me
to
do
so
,
he
had
no
need
to
look
a
whit
less
candid
and
charming
than
usual
.
I
could
feel
in
him
how
he
already
,
from
my
at
first
finding
nothing
to
reply
,
perceived
the
advantage
he
had
gained
.
I
was
so
slow
to
find
anything
that
he
had
plenty
of
time
,
after
a
minute
,
to
continue
with
his
suggestive
but
inconclusive
smile
:
"
You
know
,
my
dear
,
that
for
a
fellow
to
be
with
a
lady
always
--
!
"
His
"
my
dear
"
was
constantly
on
his
lips
for
me
,
and
nothing
could
have
expressed
more
the
exact
shade
of
the
sentiment
with
which
I
desired
to
inspire
my
pupils
than
its
fond
familiarity
.
It
was
so
respectfully
easy
.
But
,
oh
,
how
I
felt
that
at
present
I
must
pick
my
own
phrases
!
I
remember
that
,
to
gain
time
,
I
tried
to
laugh
,
and
I
seemed
to
see
in
the
beautiful
face
with
which
he
watched
me
how
ugly
and
queer
I
looked
.
"
And
always
with
the
same
lady
?
"
I
returned
.
He
neither
blanched
nor
winked
.
The
whole
thing
was
virtually
out
between
us
.
"
Ah
,
of
course
,
she
's
a
jolly
,
'
perfect
'
lady
;
but
,
after
all
,
I
'm
a
fellow
,
do
n't
you
see
?
that
's
--
well
,
getting
on
.
"
I
lingered
there
with
him
an
instant
ever
so
kindly
.
"
Yes
,
you
're
getting
on
.
"
Oh
,
but
I
felt
helpless
!
I
have
kept
to
this
day
the
heartbreaking
little
idea
of
how
he
seemed
to
know
that
and
to
play
with
it
.
"
And
you
ca
n't
say
I
've
not
been
awfully
good
,
can
you
?
"
I
laid
my
hand
on
his
shoulder
,
for
,
though
I
felt
how
much
better
it
would
have
been
to
walk
on
,
I
was
not
yet
quite
able
.
"
No
,
I
ca
n't
say
that
,
Miles
.
"
