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- Стр. 27/70
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“
You
’
ve
read
them
,
of
course
,
Mrs
.
Glennard
?
”
he
heard
her
ask
;
and
,
in
reply
to
Alexa
’
s
vague
interrogation
—
“
Why
,
the
‘
Aubyn
Letters
’
—
it
’
s
the
only
book
people
are
talking
of
this
week
.
”
Mrs
.
Dresham
immediately
saw
her
advantage
.
“
You
haven
’
t
read
them
?
How
very
extraordinary
!
As
Mrs
.
Armiger
says
,
the
book
’
s
in
the
air
;
one
breathes
it
in
like
the
influenza
.
”
Glennard
sat
motionless
,
watching
his
wife
.
“
Perhaps
it
hasn
’
t
reached
the
suburbs
yet
,
”
she
said
,
with
her
unruffled
smile
.
“
Oh
,
do
let
me
come
to
you
,
then
!
”
Mrs
.
Touchett
cried
;
“
anything
for
a
change
of
air
!
I
’
m
positively
sick
of
the
book
and
I
can
’
t
put
it
down
.
Can
’
t
you
sail
us
beyond
its
reach
,
Mr
.
Flamel
?
”
Flamel
shook
his
head
.
“
Not
even
with
this
breeze
.
Literature
travels
faster
than
steam
nowadays
.
And
the
worst
of
it
is
that
we
can
’
t
any
of
us
give
up
reading
;
it
’
s
as
insidious
as
a
vice
and
as
tiresome
as
a
virtue
.
”
“
I
believe
it
is
a
vice
,
almost
,
to
read
such
a
book
as
the
‘
Letters
,
’
”
said
Mrs
.
Touchett
.
“
It
’
s
the
woman
’
s
soul
,
absolutely
torn
up
by
the
roots
—
her
whole
self
laid
bare
;
and
to
a
man
who
evidently
didn
’
t
care
;
who
couldn
’
t
have
cared
.
I
don
’
t
mean
to
read
another
line
;
it
’
s
too
much
like
listening
at
a
keyhole
.
”
“
But
if
she
wanted
it
published
?
”
“
Wanted
it
?
How
do
we
know
she
did
?
”
