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- Уильям Сомерсет Моэм
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- Луна и грош
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- Стр. 189/193
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"
A
fruit
-
piece
!
"
I
exclaimed
in
surprise
.
We
entered
the
room
,
and
my
eyes
fell
at
once
on
the
picture
.
I
looked
at
it
for
a
long
time
.
It
was
a
pile
of
mangoes
,
bananas
,
oranges
,
and
I
know
not
what
and
at
first
sight
it
was
an
innocent
picture
enough
.
It
would
have
been
passed
in
an
exhibition
of
the
Post
-
Impressionists
by
a
careless
person
as
an
excellent
but
not
very
remarkable
example
of
the
school
;
but
perhaps
afterwards
it
would
come
back
to
his
recollection
,
and
he
would
wonder
why
.
I
do
not
think
then
he
could
ever
entirely
forget
it
.
The
colours
were
so
strange
that
words
can
hardly
tell
what
a
troubling
emotion
they
gave
.
They
were
sombre
blues
,
opaque
like
a
delicately
carved
bowl
in
lapis
lazuli
,
and
yet
with
a
quivering
lustre
that
suggested
the
palpitation
of
mysterious
life
;
there
were
purples
,
horrible
like
raw
and
putrid
flesh
,
and
yet
with
a
glowing
,
sensual
passion
that
called
up
vague
memories
of
the
Roman
Empire
of
Heliogabalus
;
there
were
reds
,
shrill
like
the
berries
of
holly
—
one
thought
of
Christmas
in
England
,
and
the
snow
,
the
good
cheer
,
and
the
pleasure
of
children
—
and
yet
by
some
magic
softened
till
they
had
the
swooning
tenderness
of
a
dove
’
s
breast
;
there
were
deep
yellows
that
died
with
an
unnatural
passion
into
a
green
as
fragrant
as
the
spring
and
as
pure
as
the
sparkling
water
of
a
mountain
brook
.
Who
can
tell
what
anguished
fancy
made
these
fruits
?
They
belonged
to
a
Polynesian
garden
of
the
Hesperides
.
There
was
something
strangely
alive
in
them
,
as
though
they
were
created
in
a
stage
of
the
earth
’
s
dark
history
when
things
were
not
irrevocably
fixed
to
their
forms
.
They
were
extravagantly
luxurious
.
They
were
heavy
with
tropical
odours
.
They
seemed
to
possess
a
sombre
passion
of
their
own
.
It
was
enchanted
fruit
,
to
taste
which
might
open
the
gateway
to
God
knows
what
secrets
of
the
soul
and
to
mysterious
palaces
of
the
imagination
.
They
were
sullen
with
unawaited
dangers
,
and
to
eat
them
might
turn
a
man
to
beast
or
god
All
that
was
healthy
and
natural
,
all
that
clung
to
happy
relationships
and
the
simple
joys
of
simple
men
,
shrunk
from
them
in
dismay
;
and
yet
a
fearful
attraction
was
in
them
,
and
,
like
the
fruit
on
the
Tree
of
the
Knowledge
of
Good
and
Evil
they
were
terrible
with
the
possibilities
of
the
Unknown
.
At
last
I
turned
away
.
I
felt
that
Strickland
had
kept
his
secret
to
the
grave
.
"
Voyons
,
Rene
,
mon
ami
,
"
came
the
loud
,
cheerful
voice
of
Madame
Coutras
,
"
what
are
you
doing
all
this
time
?
Here
are
the
aperitifs
.
Ask
Monsieur
if
he
will
not
drink
a
little
glass
of
Quinquina
Dubonnet
.
"
"
Volontiers
,
Madame
,
"
I
said
,
going
out
on
to
the
verandah
.
The
spell
was
broken
.
