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- Теодор Драйзер
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Berenice
turned
,
and
for
the
fraction
of
a
second
leveled
a
frank
and
yet
condescending
glance
from
wells
of
what
Cowperwood
considered
to
be
indigo
blue
.
"
Your
mother
has
spoken
of
you
from
time
to
time
,
"
he
said
,
pleasantly
.
She
withdrew
a
cool
,
thin
hand
as
limp
and
soft
as
wax
,
and
turned
to
her
mother
again
without
comment
,
and
yet
without
the
least
embarrassment
.
Cowperwood
seemed
in
no
way
important
to
her
.
"
What
would
you
say
,
dear
,
"
pursued
Mrs.
Carter
,
after
a
brief
exchange
of
commonplaces
,
"
if
I
were
to
spend
next
winter
in
New
York
?
"
"
It
would
be
charming
if
I
could
live
at
home
.
I
'm
sick
of
this
silly
boarding-school
.
"
"
Why
,
Berenice
!
I
thought
you
liked
it
.
"
"
I
hate
it
,
but
only
because
it
's
so
dull
.
The
girls
here
are
so
silly
.
"
Mrs.
Carter
lifted
her
eyebrows
as
much
as
to
say
to
her
escort
,
"
Now
what
do
you
think
?
"
Cowperwood
stood
solemnly
by
.
It
was
not
for
him
to
make
a
suggestion
at
present
.
He
could
see
that
for
some
reason
--
probably
because
of
her
disordered
life
--
Mrs.
Carter
was
playing
a
game
of
manners
with
her
daughter
;
she
maintained
always
a
lofty
,
romantic
air
.
With
Berenice
it
was
natural
--
the
expression
of
a
vain
,
self-conscious
,
superior
disposition
.
"
A
rather
charming
garden
here
,
"
he
observed
,
lifting
a
curtain
and
looking
out
into
a
blooming
plot
.
