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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Стр. 123/332
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Cowperwood
was
astonished
.
He
had
reached
that
point
in
life
where
the
absence
of
primal
innocence
in
a
woman
was
not
very
significant
;
but
in
Stephanie
,
seeing
that
she
was
so
utterly
charming
,
it
was
almost
too
bad
.
He
thought
what
fools
the
Platows
must
be
to
tolerate
this
art
atmosphere
for
Stephanie
without
keeping
a
sharp
watch
over
it
.
Nevertheless
,
he
was
inclined
to
believe
from
observation
thus
far
that
Stephanie
might
be
hard
to
watch
.
She
was
ingrainedly
irresponsible
,
apparently
--
so
artistically
nebulous
,
so
non-self-protective
.
To
go
on
and
be
friends
with
this
scamp
!
And
yet
she
protested
that
never
after
that
had
there
been
the
least
thing
between
them
.
Cowperwood
could
scarcely
believe
it
.
She
must
be
lying
,
and
yet
he
liked
her
so
.
The
very
romantic
,
inconsequential
way
in
which
she
narrated
all
this
staggered
,
amused
,
and
even
fascinated
him
.
"
But
,
Stephanie
,
"
he
argued
,
curiously
,
"
there
must
been
some
aftermath
to
all
this
.
What
happened
?
What
did
you
do
?
"
"
Nothing
.
"
She
shook
her
head
.
He
had
to
smile
.
"
But
oh
,
do
n't
let
's
talk
about
it
!
"
she
pleaded
.
"
I
do
n't
want
to
.
It
hurts
me
.
There
was
nothing
more
.
"
She
sighed
,
and
Cowperwood
meditated
.
The
evil
was
now
done
,
and
the
best
that
he
could
do
,
if
he
cared
for
her
at
all
--
and
he
did
--
was
to
overlook
it
.
He
surveyed
her
oddly
,
wonderingly
.
What
a
charming
soul
she
was
,
anyhow
!
How
naive
--
how
brooding
!
She
had
art
--
lots
of
it
.
Did
he
want
to
give
her
up
?
As
he
might
have
known
,
it
was
dangerous
to
trifle
with
a
type
of
this
kind
,
particularly
once
awakened
to
the
significance
of
promiscuity
,
and
unless
mastered
by
some
absorbing
passion
.
Stephanie
had
had
too
much
flattery
and
affection
heaped
upon
her
in
the
past
two
years
to
be
easily
absorbed
.
Nevertheless
,
for
the
time
being
,
anyhow
,
she
was
fascinated
by
the
significance
of
Cowperwood
.
It
was
wonderful
to
have
so
fine
,
so
powerful
a
man
care
for
her
.
She
conceived
of
him
as
a
very
great
artist
in
his
realm
rather
than
as
a
business
man
,
and
he
grasped
this
fact
after
a
very
little
while
and
appreciated
it
.
To
his
delight
,
she
was
even
more
beautiful
physically
than
he
had
anticipated
--
a
smoldering
,
passionate
girl
who
met
him
with
a
fire
which
,
though
somber
,
quite
rivaled
his
own
.
She
was
different
,
too
,
in
her
languorous
acceptance
of
all
that
he
bestowed
from
any
one
he
had
ever
known
.
She
was
as
tactful
as
Rita
Sohlberg
--
more
so
--
but
so
preternaturally
silent
at
times
.
"
Stephanie
,
"
he
would
exclaim
,
"
do
talk
.
What
are
you
thinking
of
?
You
dream
like
an
African
native
.
"
She
merely
sat
and
smiled
in
a
dark
way
or
sketched
or
modeled
him
.
