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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 136/535
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He
could
not
see
the
pages
in
his
hand
through
the
tears
,
and
moved
them
before
they
could
be
blotched
.
Thirteen
million
pounds
.
Thirteen
million
pounds
!
It
was
indeed
what
he
had
been
angling
for
in
the
days
before
Meggie
.
And
with
her
coming
he
had
abandoned
it
,
because
he
could
n't
carry
on
such
a
campaign
in
cold
blood
to
cheat
her
of
her
inheritance
.
But
what
if
he
had
known
how
much
the
old
spider
was
worth
?
What
then
?
He
had
no
idea
it
was
a
tenth
so
much
.
Thirteen
million
pounds
!
For
seven
years
Paddy
and
his
family
had
lived
in
the
head
stockman
's
house
and
worked
themselves
ragged
for
Mary
Carson
.
For
what
?
The
niggardly
wages
she
paid
?
Never
to
Father
Ralph
's
knowledge
had
Paddy
complained
of
being
shabbily
treated
,
thinking
no
doubt
that
when
his
sister
died
he
would
be
amply
repaid
for
managing
the
property
on
ordinary
stockman
's
pay
,
while
his
sons
did
stockman
's
work
for
rouseabout
's
wages
.
He
had
made
do
,
and
grown
to
Jove
Drogheda
as
if
it
were
his
own
,
rightly
assuming
it
would
be
.
"
Bravo
,
Mary
!
"
said
Father
Ralph
again
,
these
first
tears
since
his
boyhood
dropping
from
his
face
onto
the
backs
of
his
hands
,
but
not
onto
the
paper
.
Thirteen
million
pounds
,
and
the
chance
to
be
Cardinal
de
Bricassart
yet
.
Against
Paddy
Cleary
,
his
wife
,
his
sons
--
and
Meggie
.
How
diabolically
well
she
had
read
him
!
Had
she
stripped
Paddy
of
everything
,
his
way
would
have
been
clear
:
he
could
have
taken
the
will
down
to
the
kitchen
stove
and
thrust
it
inside
the
firebox
without
a
qualm
.
But
she
had
made
sure
Paddy
would
n't
want
,
that
after
her
death
he
would
be
more
comfortable
on
Drogheda
than
during
her
life
,
and
that
Drogheda
could
not
quite
be
taken
from
him
.
Its
profits
and
title
,
yes
,
but
not
the
land
itself
.
No
,
he
would
n't
be
the
owner
of
that
fabulous
thirteen
million
pounds
,
but
he
would
be
well
respected
,
comfortably
provided
for
.
Meggie
would
n't
go
hungry
,
or
be
thrown
shoeless
upon
the
world
.
Nor
would
she
be
Miss
Cleary
,
either
,
able
to
stand
on
an
equal
footing
with
Miss
Carmichael
and
that
ilk
.
Quite
respectable
,
socially
admissible
,
but
not
top
drawer
.
Never
top
drawer
.
Thirteen
million
pounds
.
The
chance
to
get
out
of
Gillanbone
and
perpetual
obscurity
,
the
chance
to
take
his
place
within
the
hierarchy
of
Church
administration
,
the
assured
goodwill
of
his
peers
and
superiors
.
And
all
while
he
was
still
young
enough
to
make
up
the
ground
he
had
lost
.
Mary
Carson
had
made
Gillanbone
the
epicenter
of
the
Archbishop
Papal
Legate
's
map
with
a
vengeance
;
the
tremors
would
reach
as
far
as
the
Vatican
.
Rich
though
the
Church
was
,
thirteen
million
pounds
was
thirteen
million
pounds
.
Not
to
be
sneezed
at
,
even
by
the
Church
.
And
his
was
the
sole
hand
which
brought
it
into
the
fold
,
his
hand
acknowledged
in
blue
ink
in
Mary
Carson
's
own
writing
.
He
knew
Paddy
would
never
contest
the
will
;
so
had
Mary
Carson
,
God
rot
her
.
Oh
,
certainly
Paddy
would
be
furious
,
would
never
want
to
see
him
again
or
speak
to
him
again
,
but
his
chagrin
would
n't
extend
to
litigation
.
Was
there
a
decision
?
Did
n't
he
already
know
,
had
n't
he
known
the
moment
he
read
her
will
what
he
was
going
to
do
?
The
tears
had
dried
.
With
his
usual
grace
Father
Ralph
got
to
his
feet
,
made
sure
his
shirt
was
tucked
in
all
the
way
round
,
and
went
to
the
door
.
He
must
get
to
Gilly
,
pick
up
a
soutane
and
vestments
.
But
first
he
wanted
to
see
Mary
Carson
again
.
In
spite
of
the
open
windows
the
stench
had
become
a
reeking
fug
;
no
hint
of
a
breeze
stirred
the
limp
curtains
.
With
steady
tread
he
crossed
to
the
bed
and
stood
looking
down
.
The
fly
eggs
were
beginning
to
hatch
maggots
in
all
the
wet
parts
of
her
face
,
ballooning
gases
puffed
up
her
fat
arms
and
hands
to
greenish
blobs
,
her
skin
was
breaking
down
.
Oh
,
God
.
You
disgusting
old
spider
.
You
've
won
,
but
what
a
victory
.
The
triumph
of
one
disintegrating
caricature
of
humanity
over
another
.
You
ca
n't
defeat
my
Meggie
,
nor
can
you
take
from
her
what
was
never
yours
.
I
might
burn
in
Hell
alongside
you
,
but
I
know
the
Hell
they
've
got
planned
for
you
:
to
see
my
indifference
to
you
persist
as
we
rot
away
together
through
all
eternity
...
