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- Стр. 72/193
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"
I
don
’
t
.
I
only
want
to
paint
what
I
see
.
"
"
I
wonder
if
I
could
write
on
a
desert
island
,
with
the
certainty
that
no
eyes
but
mine
would
ever
see
what
I
had
written
.
"
Strickland
did
not
speak
for
a
long
time
,
but
his
eyes
shone
strangely
,
as
though
he
saw
something
that
kindled
his
soul
to
ecstasy
.
"
Sometimes
I
’
ve
thought
of
an
island
lost
in
a
boundless
sea
,
where
I
could
live
in
some
hidden
valley
,
among
strange
trees
,
in
silence
.
There
I
think
I
could
find
what
I
want
.
"
He
did
not
express
himself
quite
like
this
.
He
used
gestures
instead
of
adjectives
,
and
he
halted
.
I
have
put
into
my
own
words
what
I
think
he
wanted
to
say
.
"
Looking
back
on
the
last
five
years
,
do
you
think
it
was
worth
it
?
"
I
asked
.
He
looked
at
me
,
and
I
saw
that
he
did
not
know
what
I
meant
.
I
explained
.
"
You
gave
up
a
comfortable
home
and
a
life
as
happy
as
the
average
.
You
were
fairly
prosperous
.
You
seem
to
have
had
a
rotten
time
in
Paris
.
If
you
had
your
time
over
again
would
you
do
what
you
did
?
"
"
Rather
.
"
