-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Мари Корелли
-
- Скорбь сатаны
-
- Стр. 116/279
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Completely
prepared
,
like
most
men
of
my
type
to
sneer
and
cavil
at
the
book
,
chiefly
because
it
was
written
by
a
feminine
hand
,
I
sat
down
in
a
retired
corner
of
the
club
reading-room
,
and
began
to
cut
and
skim
the
pages
.
I
had
not
read
many
sentences
before
my
heart
sank
with
a
heavy
sense
of
fear
and
--
jealousy
!
--
the
slow
fire
of
an
insidious
envy
began
to
smoulder
in
my
mind
.
What
power
had
so
gifted
this
author
--
this
mere
woman
--
that
she
should
dare
to
write
better
than
I
!
And
that
she
should
force
me
,
by
the
magic
of
her
pen
to
mentally
acknowledge
,
albeit
with
wrath
and
shame
,
my
own
inferiority
!
Clearness
of
thought
,
brilliancy
of
style
,
beauty
of
diction
,
all
these
were
hers
,
united
to
consummate
ease
of
expression
and
artistic
skill
--
and
all
at
once
,
in
the
very
midst
of
reading
,
such
a
violent
impulse
of
insensate
rage
possessed
me
that
I
flung
the
book
down
,
dreading
to
go
on
with
it
.
The
potent
,
resistless
,
unpurchasable
quality
of
Genius
!
--
ah
,
I
was
not
yet
so
blinded
by
my
own
conceit
as
to
be
unable
to
recognize
that
divine
fire
when
I
saw
it
flashing
up
from
every
page
as
I
saw
it
now
;
but
,
to
be
compelled
to
give
that
recognition
to
a
woman
's
work
,
galled
and
irritated
me
almost
beyond
endurance
.
Women
,
I
considered
,
should
be
kept
in
their
places
as
men
's
drudges
or
toys
--
as
wives
,
mothers
,
nurses
,
cooks
,
menders
of
socks
and
shirts
,
and
housekeepers
generally
--
what
right
had
they
to
intrude
into
the
realms
of
art
and
snatch
the
laurels
from
their
masters
'
brows
!
If
I
could
but
get
the
chance
of
reviewing
this
book
,
I
thought
to
myself
savagely
!
--
I
would
misquote
,
misrepresent
,
and
cut
it
to
shreds
with
a
joy
too
great
for
words
!
This
Mavis
Clare
,
'
unsexed
,
'
as
I
at
once
called
her
in
my
own
mind
simply
because
she
had
the
power
I
lacked
--
wrote
what
she
had
to
say
with
a
gracious
charm
,
freedom
,
and
innate
consciousness
of
strength
--
a
strength
which
forced
me
back
upon
myself
and
filled
me
with
the
bitterest
humiliation
.
Without
knowing
her
I
hated
her
--
this
woman
who
could
win
fame
without
the
aid
of
money
,
and
who
was
crowned
so
brightly
and
visibly
to
the
world
that
she
was
beyond
criticism
.
I
took
up
her
book
again
and
tried
to
cavil
at
it
--
over
one
or
two
dainty
bits
of
poetic
simile
and
sentiment
I
laughed
--
enviously
.
When
I
left
the
club
later
in
the
day
,
I
took
the
book
with
me
,
divided
between
a
curious
desire
to
read
it
honestly
through
with
justice
to
it
and
its
author
,
and
an
impulse
to
tear
it
asunder
and
fling
it
into
the
road
to
be
crushed
in
the
mud
under
rolling
cab
and
cart
wheels
.
In
this
strange
humour
Rimânez
found
me
,
when
at
about
four
o'clock
he
returned
from
his
mission
to
David
McWhing
,
smiling
and
--
triumphant
.
"
"
Congratulate
me
Geoffrey
!
"
he
exclaimed
as
he
entered
my
room
--
"
Congratulate
me
,
and
yourself
!
I
am
minus
the
five
hundred
pound
cheque
I
showed
you
this
morning
!
"
"
McWhing
has
pocketed
it
then
,
"
--
I
said
sullenly
--
"
All
right
!
Much
good
may
it
do
him
,
and
his
'
charity
'
!
"
Rimânez
gave
me
a
quick
observant
glance
.
"
Why
,
what
has
happened
to
you
since
we
parted
?
"
he
inquired
,
throwing
off
his
overcoat
and
sitting
down
opposite
to
me
--
"
You
seem
out
of
temper
!
Yet
you
ought
to
be
a
perfectly
happy
man
--
for
your
highest
ambition
is
about
to
be
gratified
.
You
said
you
wished
to
make
your
book
and
yourself
'
the
talk
of
London
,
'
--
well
,
within
the
next
two
or
three
weeks
you
will
see
yourself
praised
in
a
very
large
number
of
influential
newspapers
as
the
newest
discovered
'
genius
'
of
the
day
,
only
a
little
way
removed
from
Shakespeare
himself
(
three
of
the
big
leading
magazines
are
guaranteed
to
say
that
)
and
all
this
through
the
affability
of
Mr
McWhing
,
and
the
trifling
sum
of
five
hundred
pounds
!
And
are
you
not
satisfied
?
Really
,
my
friend
,
you
are
becoming
difficult
!
--
I
warned
you
that
too
much
good
fortune
spoils
a
man
.
"
With
a
sudden
movement
I
flung
down
Mavis
Clare
's
book
before
him
.
"
Look
at
this
"
--
I
said
--
"
Does
she
pay
five
hundred
pounds
to
David
McWhing
's
charity
?
"
He
took
up
the
volume
and
glanced
at
it
.
"
Certainly
not
.
But
then
--
she
gets
slandered
--
not
criticized
!
"
