-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Теодор Драйзер
-
- Титан
-
- Стр. 209/332
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
For
answer
Berenice
's
deep
,
almost
black-blue
eyes
turned
on
her
admirer
with
solemn
unflattered
consideration
.
She
awed
always
by
the
something
that
she
did
not
say
.
The
school
,
for
all
the
noble
dames
who
presided
over
it
--
solemn
,
inexperienced
owl-like
conventionalists
who
insisted
on
the
last
tittle
and
jot
of
order
and
procedure
--
was
a
joke
to
Berenice
.
She
recognized
the
value
of
its
social
import
,
but
even
at
fifteen
and
sixteen
she
was
superior
to
it
.
She
was
superior
to
her
superiors
and
to
the
specimens
of
maidenhood
--
supposed
to
be
perfect
socially
--
who
gathered
about
to
hear
her
talk
,
to
hear
her
sing
,
declaim
,
or
imitate
.
She
was
deeply
,
dramatically
,
urgently
conscious
of
the
value
of
her
personality
in
itself
,
not
as
connected
with
any
inherited
social
standing
,
but
of
its
innate
worth
,
and
of
the
artistry
and
wonder
of
her
body
.
One
of
her
chief
delights
was
to
walk
alone
in
her
room
--
sometimes
at
night
,
the
lamp
out
,
the
moon
perhaps
faintly
illuminating
her
chamber
--
and
to
pose
and
survey
her
body
,
and
dance
in
some
naive
,
graceful
,
airy
Greek
way
a
dance
that
was
singularly
free
from
sex
consciousness
--
and
yet
was
it
?
She
was
conscious
of
her
body
--
of
every
inch
of
it
--
under
the
ivory-white
clothes
which
she
frequently
wore
.
Once
she
wrote
in
a
secret
diary
which
she
maintained
--
another
art
impulse
or
an
affectation
,
as
you
will
:
"
My
skin
is
so
wonderful
.
It
tingles
so
with
rich
life
.
I
love
it
and
my
strong
muscles
underneath
.
I
love
my
hands
and
my
hair
and
my
eyes
.
My
hands
are
long
and
thin
and
delicate
;
my
eyes
are
a
dark
,
deep
blue
;
my
hair
is
a
brown
,
rusty
red
,
thick
and
sleepy
.
My
long
,
firm
,
untired
limbs
can
dance
all
night
.
Oh
,
I
love
life
!
I
love
life
!
"
You
would
not
have
called
Berenice
Fleming
sensuous
--
though
she
was
--
because
she
was
self-controlled
.
Her
eyes
lied
to
you
.
They
lied
to
all
the
world
.
They
looked
you
through
and
through
with
a
calm
savoir
faire
,
a
mocking
defiance
,
which
said
with
a
faint
curl
of
the
lips
,
barely
suggested
to
help
them
out
,
"
You
can
not
read
me
,
you
can
not
read
me
.
"
She
put
her
head
to
one
side
,
smiled
,
lied
(
by
implication
)
,
assumed
that
there
was
nothing
.
And
there
was
nothing
,
as
yet
.
Yet
there
was
something
,
too
--
her
inmost
convictions
,
and
these
she
took
good
care
to
conceal
.
The
world
--
how
little
it
should
ever
,
ever
know
!
How
little
it
ever
could
know
truly
!
The
first
time
Cowperwood
encountered
this
Circe
daughter
of
so
unfortunate
a
mother
was
on
the
occasion
of
a
trip
to
New
York
,
the
second
spring
following
his
introduction
to
Mrs.
Carter
in
Louisville
.
Berenice
was
taking
some
part
in
the
closing
exercises
of
the
Brewster
School
,
and
Mrs.
Carter
,
with
Cowperwood
for
an
escort
,
decided
to
go
East
.
Cowperwood
having
located
himself
at
the
Netherlands
,
and
Mrs.
Carter
at
the
much
humbler
Grenoble
,
they
journeyed
together
to
visit
this
paragon
whose
picture
he
had
had
hanging
in
his
rooms
in
Chicago
for
months
past
.
When
they
were
introduced
into
the
somewhat
somber
reception
parlor
of
the
Brewster
School
,
Berenice
came
slipping
in
after
a
few
moments
,
a
noiseless
figure
of
a
girl
,
tall
and
slim
,
and
deliciously
sinuous
.
Cowperwood
saw
at
first
glance
that
she
fulfilled
all
the
promise
of
her
picture
,
and
was
delighted
.
She
had
,
he
thought
,
a
strange
,
shrewd
,
intelligent
smile
,
which
,
however
,
was
girlish
and
friendly
.
Without
so
much
as
a
glance
in
his
direction
she
came
forward
,
extending
her
arms
and
hands
in
an
inimitable
histrionic
manner
,
and
exclaimed
,
with
a
practised
and
yet
natural
inflection
:
"
Mother
,
dear
!
So
here
you
are
really
!
You
know
,
I
've
been
thinking
of
you
all
morning
.
I
was
n't
sure
whether
you
would
come
to-day
,
you
change
about
so
.
I
think
I
even
dreamed
of
you
last
night
.
"
Her
skirts
,
still
worn
just
below
the
shoe-tops
,
had
the
richness
of
scraping
silk
then
fashionable
.
She
was
also
guilty
of
using
a
faint
perfume
of
some
kind
.
Cowperwood
could
see
that
Mrs.
Carter
,
despite
a
certain
nervousness
due
to
the
girl
's
superior
individuality
and
his
presence
,
was
very
proud
of
her
.
Berenice
,
he
also
saw
quickly
,
was
measuring
him
out
of
the
tail
of
her
eye
--
a
single
sweeping
glance
which
she
vouchsafed
from
beneath
her
long
lashes
sufficing
;
but
she
gathered
quite
accurately
the
totality
of
Cowperwood
's
age
,
force
,
grace
,
wealth
,
and
worldly
ability
.
Without
hesitation
she
classed
him
as
a
man
of
power
in
some
field
,
possibly
finance
,
one
of
the
numerous
able
men
whom
her
mother
seemed
to
know
.
She
always
wondered
about
her
mother
.
His
large
gray
eyes
,
that
searched
her
with
lightning
accuracy
,
appealed
to
her
as
pleasant
,
able
eyes
.
She
knew
on
the
instant
,
young
as
she
was
,
that
he
liked
women
,
and
that
probably
he
would
think
her
charming
;
but
as
for
giving
him
additional
attention
it
was
outside
her
code
.
She
preferred
to
be
interested
in
her
dear
mother
exclusively
.
"
Berenice
,
"
observed
Mrs.
Carter
,
airily
,
"
let
me
introduce
Mr.
Cowperwood
.
"