-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Эдит Уортон
-
- Пробный камень
-
- Стр. 2/70
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
It
was
only
when
he
came
on
something
that
belonged
to
her
that
he
felt
a
sudden
renewal
of
the
old
feeling
,
the
strange
dual
impulse
that
drew
him
to
her
voice
but
drove
him
from
her
hand
,
so
that
even
now
,
at
sight
of
anything
she
had
touched
,
his
heart
contracted
painfully
.
It
happened
seldom
nowadays
.
Her
little
presents
,
one
by
one
,
had
disappeared
from
his
rooms
,
and
her
letters
,
kept
from
some
unacknowledged
puerile
vanity
in
the
possession
of
such
treasures
,
seldom
came
beneath
his
hand
.
.
.
.
“
Her
letters
will
be
of
special
value
—
”
Her
letters
!
Why
,
he
must
have
hundreds
of
them
—
enough
to
fill
a
volume
.
Sometimes
it
used
to
seem
to
him
that
they
came
with
every
post
—
he
used
to
avoid
looking
in
his
letter
-
box
when
he
came
home
to
his
rooms
—
but
her
writing
seemed
to
spring
out
at
him
as
he
put
his
key
in
the
door
—
.
He
stood
up
and
strolled
into
the
other
room
.
Hollingsworth
,
lounging
away
from
the
window
,
had
joined
himself
to
a
languidly
convivial
group
of
men
to
whom
,
in
phrases
as
halting
as
though
they
struggled
to
define
an
ultimate
idea
,
he
was
expounding
the
cursed
nuisance
of
living
in
a
hole
with
such
a
damned
climate
that
one
had
to
get
out
of
it
by
February
,
with
the
contingent
difficulty
of
there
being
no
place
to
take
one
’
s
yacht
to
in
winter
but
that
other
played
-
out
hole
,
the
Riviera
.
From
the
outskirts
of
this
group
Glennard
wandered
to
another
,
where
a
voice
as
different
as
possible
from
Hollingsworth
’
s
colorless
organ
dominated
another
circle
of
languid
listeners
.
“
Come
and
hear
Dinslow
talk
about
his
patent
:
admission
free
,
”
one
of
the
men
sang
out
in
a
tone
of
mock
resignation
.
Dinslow
turned
to
Glennard
the
confident
pugnacity
of
his
smile
.
“
Give
it
another
six
months
and
it
’
ll
be
talking
about
itself
,
”
he
declared
.
“
It
’
s
pretty
nearly
articulate
now
.
”
“
Can
it
say
papa
?
”
someone
else
inquired
.
Dinslow
’
s
smile
broadened
.
“
You
’
ll
be
deuced
glad
to
say
papa
to
it
a
year
from
now
,
”
he
retorted
.
“
It
’
ll
be
able
to
support
even
you
in
affluence
.
Look
here
,
now
,
just
let
me
explain
to
you
—
”
Glennard
moved
away
impatiently
.
The
men
at
the
club
—
all
but
those
who
were
“
in
it
”
—
were
proverbially
“
tired
”
of
Dinslow
’
s
patent
,
and
none
more
so
than
Glennard
,
whose
knowledge
of
its
merits
made
it
loom
large
in
the
depressing
catalogue
of
lost
opportunities
.
The
relations
between
the
two
men
had
always
been
friendly
,
and
Dinslow
’
s
urgent
offers
to
“
take
him
in
on
the
ground
floor
”
had
of
late
intensified
Glennard
’
s
sense
of
his
own
inability
to
meet
good
luck
half
way
.
Some
of
the
men
who
had
paused
to
listen
were
already
in
evening
clothes
,
others
on
their
way
home
to
dress
;
and
Glennard
,
with
an
accustomed
twinge
of
humiliation
,
said
to
himself
that
if
he
lingered
among
them
it
was
in
the
miserable
hope
that
one
of
the
number
might
ask
him
to
dine
.
Miss
Trent
had
told
him
that
she
was
to
go
to
the
opera
that
evening
with
her
rich
aunt
;
and
if
he
should
have
the
luck
to
pick
up
a
dinner
-
invitation
he
might
join
her
there
without
extra
outlay
He
moved
about
the
room
,
lingering
here
and
there
in
a
tentative
affectation
of
interest
;
but
though
the
men
greeted
him
pleasantly
no
one
asked
him
to
dine
.
Doubtless
they
were
all
engaged
,
these
men
who
could
afford
to
pay
for
their
dinners
,
who
did
not
have
to
hunt
for
invitations
as
a
beggar
rummages
for
a
crust
in
an
ash
-
barrel
!
But
no
—
as
Hollingsworth
left
the
lessening
circle
about
the
table
an
admiring
youth
called
out
—
“
Holly
,
stop
and
dine
!
”
Hollingsworth
turned
on
him
the
crude
countenance
that
looked
like
the
wrong
side
of
a
more
finished
face
.
“
Sorry
I
can
’
t
.
I
’
m
in
for
a
beastly
banquet
.
”
