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- Уильям Сомерсет Моэм
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- Стр. 187/246
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Charles
had
been
wonderful
to
her
during
the
first
two
weeks
of
her
bereavement
,
she
did
not
know
what
she
would
have
done
without
him
.
He
had
always
been
at
her
beck
and
call
*
His
conversation
,
by
taking
her
into
a
different
world
,
had
soothed
her
nerves
.
Her
soul
had
been
muddied
,
and
in
his
distinction
of
spirit
she
had
washed
herself
clean
.
It
had
rested
her
wonderfully
to
wander
about
the
galleries
with
him
and
look
at
pictures
.
She
had
good
reason
to
be
grateful
to
him
.
She
thought
of
all
the
years
he
had
loved
her
.
He
had
waited
for
her
now
for
more
than
twenty
years
.
She
had
not
been
very
kind
to
him
.
It
would
have
given
him
so
much
happiness
to
possess
her
and
really
it
would
not
have
hurt
her
.
She
wondered
why
she
had
resisted
him
so
long
.
Perhaps
because
he
was
so
faithful
,
because
his
devotion
was
so
humble
,
perhaps
only
because
she
wanted
to
preserve
in
his
mind
the
ideal
that
he
had
of
her
.
It
was
stupid
really
and
she
had
been
selfish
.
It
occurred
to
her
with
exultation
that
she
could
at
last
reward
him
for
all
his
tenderness
,
his
patience
and
his
selflessness
.
She
had
not
lost
the
sense
of
unworthiness
which
Michael
’
s
great
kindness
had
aroused
in
her
,
and
she
was
remorseful
still
because
she
had
been
for
so
long
impatient
of
him
.
The
desire
for
self
-
sacrifice
with
which
she
left
England
burnt
still
in
her
breast
with
an
eager
flame
.
She
felt
that
Charles
was
a
worthy
object
for
its
exercise
.
She
laughed
a
little
,
kindly
and
compassionately
,
as
she
thought
of
his
amazement
when
he
understood
what
she
intended
;
for
a
moment
he
would
hardly
be
able
to
believe
it
,
and
then
what
rapture
,
then
what
ecstasy
!
The
love
that
he
had
held
banked
up
for
so
many
years
would
burst
its
sluices
like
a
great
torrent
and
in
a
flood
o
’
erwhelm
her
.
Her
heart
swelled
at
the
thought
of
his
infinite
gratitude
.
But
still
he
could
hardly
believe
in
his
good
fortune
;
and
when
it
was
all
over
and
she
lay
in
his
arms
she
would
nestle
up
to
him
and
whisper
tenderly
:
"
Was
it
worth
waiting
for
?
"
"
Like
Helen
,
you
make
me
immortal
with
a
kiss
.
"
It
was
wonderful
to
be
able
to
give
so
much
happiness
to
a
human
being
.
"
I
’
ll
write
to
him
just
before
I
leave
St
.
Malo
,
"
she
decided
.
The
spring
passed
into
summer
,
and
at
the
end
of
July
it
was
time
for
Julia
to
go
to
Paris
and
see
about
her
clothes
.
Michael
wanted
to
open
with
the
new
play
early
in
September
,
and
rehearsals
were
to
start
in
August
.
She
had
brought
the
play
with
her
to
St
.
Malo
,
intending
to
study
her
part
,
but
the
circumstances
in
which
she
lived
had
made
it
impossible
.
She
had
all
the
leisure
she
needed
,
but
in
that
grey
,
austere
and
yet
snug
little
town
,
in
the
constant
company
of
those
two
old
ladies
whose
interests
were
confined
to
the
parish
church
and
their
household
affairs
,
though
it
was
a
good
play
,
she
could
take
but
little
interest
in
it
.
"
It
’
s
high
time
I
was
getting
back
,
"
she
said
.
"
It
would
be
hell
if
I
really
came
to
the
conclusion
that
the
theatre
wasn
’
t
worth
the
fuss
and
bother
they
make
about
it
.
"
She
said
good
-
bye
to
her
mother
and
to
Aunt
Carrie
.
They
had
been
very
kind
to
her
,
but
she
had
an
inkling
that
they
would
not
be
sorry
when
her
departure
allowed
them
to
return
to
the
life
she
had
interrupted
.
They
were
a
little
relieved
besides
to
know
that
now
there
was
no
more
danger
of
some
eccentricity
,
such
as
you
must
always
run
the
risk
of
with
an
actress
,
which
might
arouse
the
unfavourable
comment
of
the
ladies
of
St
.
Malo
.
