Stefan Żeromski Ludzie bezdomni
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Sandemo Margit Saga O Ludziach Lodu
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.These incompatibilities had their peculiar charmmany nightworkers, for example, liked having their own private timezonesbut, in general, it cost more to buy scenedows whichkept closely instep with real time.Selina still looked unconvinced when Hagan had finishedspeaking.She shook her head almost imperceptibly and Iknew he had been using the wrong approach.Quite suddenlythe pewter helmet of her hair was disturbed by a cool gust ofwind, and huge clean tumbling drops of rain began to spanground us from an almost cloudless sky."I'll give you a check now," I said abruptly, and sawSelina's green eyes triangulate angrily on my face."You canarrange delivery?""Aye, delivery's no problem," Hagan said, getting to hisfeet."But wouldn't you rather take the glass with you?""Well, yesif you don't mind." I was shamed by hisreadiness to trust my scrip."I'll unclip a pane for you.Wait here.It won't take long toslip it into a carrying frame." Hagan limped down the slopeto'vards the seriate windows, through some of which the viewtowards Linnhe was sunny, while others were cloudy and afew pure black.Selina drew the collar of her blouse closed at her throat."The least he could have done was invite us inside.Therecan't be so many fools passing through that he can afford toneglect them."I tried to ignore the insult and concentrated on writing thecheck.One of the outsize drops broke across my knuckles,splattering the pink paper."All right," I said, "let's move in under the eaves till he getsback." You.worm, I thought as I felt the whole thing gocompletely wrong.I just had to be a fool to marry you.Aprize fool, a fool's fooland now that you've trapped part ofme inside you I'll never ever, never ever, never ever get away.Feeling my stomach clench itself painfully, I ran behindSelina to the side of the cottage.Beyond the window the neatliving room, with its coal fire, was empty but the child's toyswere scattered on the floor.Alphabet blocks and a wheelbar-row the exact color of freshly pared carrots.As I stared in,the boy came running from the other room and began kickingthe blocks.He didn't notice me.A few moments later theyoung woman entered the room and lifted him, laughingeasily and whole-heartedly as she swung the boy under herarm.She came to the window as she had done earlier.Ismiled self-consciously, but neither she nor the child re-sponded.My forehead prickled icily.Could they both be blind? Isidled away.Selina gave a little scream and I spun towards her."The rug!" she said."It's getting soaked."She ran across the yard in the rain, snatched the reddishsquare from the dappling wall and ran back, towards thecottage door.Something heaved convulsively in my subcon-sious."Selina," I shouted."Don't open it!"But I was too late.She had pushed open the latchedwooden door and was standing, hand over mouth, lookinginto the cottage.I moved close to her and took the rug fromher unresisting fingers.As I was closing the door I let my eyes traverse thecottage's interior.The neat living room in which I had justseen the woman and child was, in reality, a sickening clutterof shabby furniture, old newspapers, cast-off clothing andsmeared dishes.It was damp, stinking and utterly deserted.The only object I recognized from my view through thewindow was the little wheelbarrow, paintless and broken.I latched the door firmly and ordered myself to forpet whatI had seen.Some men who live alone are good housekeepers;others just don't know how.Selina's face was white."I don't understand.I don't under-stand it.""Slow glass works both ways," I said gently."Light passesout of a house, as well as in.""You mean.?""I don't know.It isn't our business.Now steady upHagan's coming back with our glass." The chorning in mystomach was beginning to subside.Hagan came into the yard carrying an oblong, plastic-cov-ered frame.I held the check out to him, but he was staringat Selina's face.He seemed to know immediately that ouruncomprehending fingers had rummaged through his soul.Selina avoided his gaze.She was old and ill-looking, and hereyes stared determinedly towards the nearing horizon."I'll take the rug from you, Mr.Garland," Hagan finallysaid."You shouldn't have troubled yourself over it.""No trouble.Here's the check.""Thank you." He was still looking at Selina with a strangekind of supplication."It's been a pleasure to do business withyou.""The pleasure was mine," I said with equal, senselessformality.I picked up the heavy frame and guided Selinatowards the path which led to the road.Just as we reached thehead of the now slippery steps Hagan spoke again."Mr.Garland!"I turned unwillingly."It wasn't my fault," he said steadily."A hit-and-run drivergot them both, down on the Oban road six years ago.My boywas only seven when it happened.I'm entitled to keepsomething."I nodded wordlessly and moved down the path, holding mywife close to me, treasuring the feel of her arms lockedaround me.At the bend I looked back through the rain andsaw Hagan sitting with squared shoulders on the wall wherewe had first seen him.Pe was looking at the house, but I was unable to tell ifthere was anyone at the window [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
