Читать книгу Look Homeward, Angel. A Story of the Buried Life онлайн

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"Going?" She could not conceal the tremor of her voice. "Going? Alone?"

He smiled sadly. The sun had set. The gathering darkness hid the suspicious moisture in his grey eyes.

"Yes, alone," he said. "Did not One greater than I go out alone some nineteen centuries ago?"

"Alone? Alone?" A sob rose in her throat and choked her.

"But before I go," he said, after a moment, in a voice which he strove in vain to render steady. "I want to tell you——" He paused a moment, struggling for mastery of his feelings.

"Yes?" she whispered.

"——That I shall never forget you, little girl, as long as I live. Never." He turned abruptly to depart.

"No, not alone! You shall not go alone!" she stopped him with a sudden cry.

He whirled as if he had been shot.

"What do you mean? What do you mean?" he cried hoarsely.

"Oh, can't you see! Can't you see!" She threw out her little hands imploringly, and her voice broke.

"Grace! Grace! Dear heaven, do you mean it!"

"You silly man! Oh, you dear blind foolish boy! Haven't you known for ages—since the day I first heard you preach at the Murphy Street settlement?"