Ethan Frome. Edith Wharton

Читать онлайн.
Название Ethan Frome
Автор произведения Edith Wharton
Жанр Классическая проза
Серия
Издательство Классическая проза
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008110550



Скачать книгу

tell me I’d try. You know she hardly ever says anything, and sometimes I can see she ain’t suited, and yet I don’t know why.” She turned on him with a sudden flash of indignation. “You’d ought to tell me, Ethan Frome—you’d ought to! Unless you want me to go too—”

      Unless he wanted her to go too! The cry was balm to his raw wound. The iron heavens seemed to melt and rain down sweetness. Again he struggled for the all-expressive word, and again, his arm in hers, found only a deep “Come along.”

      They walked on in silence through the blackness of the hemlock-shaded lane, where Ethan’s sawmill gloomed through the night, and out again into the comparative clearness of the fields. On the farther side of the hemlock belt the open country rolled away before them grey and lonely under the stars. Sometimes their way led them under the shade of an overhanging bank or through the thin obscurity of a clump of leafless trees. Here and there a farmhouse stood far back among the fields, mute and cold as a grave-stone. The night was so still that they heard the frozen snow crackle under their feet. The crash of a loaded branch falling far off in the woods reverberated like a musket-shot, and once a fox barked, and Mattie shrank closer to Ethan, and quickened her steps.

      At length they sighted the group of larches at Ethan’s gate, and as they drew near it the sense that the walk was over brought back his words.

      “Then you don’t want to leave us, Matt?”

      He had to stoop his head to catch her stifled whisper: “Where’d I go, if I did?”

      The answer sent a pang through him but the tone suffused him with joy. He forgot what else he had meant to say and pressed her against him so closely that he seemed to feel her warmth in his veins.

      “You ain’t crying are you, Matt?”

      “No, of course I’m not,” she quavered.

      They turned in at the gate and passed under the shaded knoll where, enclosed in a low fence, the Frome grave-stones slanted at crazy angles through the snow. Ethan looked at them curiously. For years that quiet company had mocked his restlessness, his desire for change and freedom. “We never got away—how should you?” seemed to be written on every headstone; and whenever he went in or out of his gate he thought with a shiver: “I shall just go on living here till I join them.” But now all desire for change had vanished, and the sight of the little enclosure gave him a warm sense of continuance and stability.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QPkaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcFJpZ2h0cz0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3JpZ2h0cy8iIHhtbG5z OnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0iaHR0 cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1wPSJo dHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bXBSaWdodHM6TWFya2VkPSJGYWxzZSIgeG1w TU06T3JpZ2luYWxEb2N1bWVudElEPSJhZG9iZTpkb2NpZDpwaG90b3Nob3A6NDY2MzBlZDAtYmIy My0xMWRlLWE4ZWQtYmU4YTM4YWNjZTJlIiB4bXBNTTpEb2N1bWVudElEPSJ4bXAuZGlkOjRGNDUy QTE4NDBFNTExRTRBMEM2ODRFQ0FFRTJFMzI0IiB4bXBNTTpJbnN0YW5jZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOjRG NDUyQTE3NDBFNTExRTRBMEM2ODRFQ0FFRTJFMzI0IiB4bXA6Q3JlYXRvclRvb2w9IkFkb2JlIFBo b3Rvc2hvcCBDUzUuMSBNYWNpbnRvc2giPiA8eG1wTU06RGVyaXZlZEZyb20gc3RSZWY6aW5zdGFu Y2VJRD0ieG1wLmlpZDpGOURBRDQ2QTIyMkE2ODExOEE2REM2MTdCMzc5MkEzOSIgc3RSZWY6ZG9j dW1lbnRJRD0iYWRvYmU6ZG9jaWQ6cGhvdG9zaG9wO