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

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He almost forgot himself: "See here, Eliza," he began, "if you were thinking of building somewhere, I"—but he recovered himself in time—"I'll—I'll make you the best price you can get on the material," he concluded. He thrust a slice of pear quickly into his mouth.

She pursed her mouth rapidly for some moments.

"No," she said. "I'm not ready for that yet, Will. I'll let you know." The loose wood-coals crumbled on the hearth.

"I'll let you know," she said again. He clasped his knife and thrust it in a trousers pocket.

"Good-night, Eliza," he said. "I reckon Pett will be in to see you. I'll tell her you're all right."

He went down the stairs quietly, and let himself out through the front door. As he descended the tall veranda steps, Duncan and Jannadeau came quietly down the yard from the sitting-room.

"How's W.O.?" he asked.

"Ah, he'll be all right now," said Duncan cheerfully. "He's fast asleep."

"The sleep of the righteous?" asked Will Pentland with a wink.

The Swiss resented the implied jeer at his Titan. "It is a gread bitty," began Jannadeau in a low guttural voice, "that Mr. Gant drinks. With his mind he could go far. When he's sober a finer man doesn't live."