
- •Daphne du Maurier
- •It was a surprise, therefore, to find that this newcomer remained standing on his feet, and it was he who made a signal to the waiter.
- •I hesitated a moment before replying.
- •I expected him to laugh, it was a stupid story, I don't know why I told him, but he looked at me thoughtfully as he stirred his coffee.
- •I sat still, my hands in my lap, not knowing whether he meant it or not.
- •I closed it behind me, and stood there, rather self-conscious, my hands hanging by my side. 'What on earth are you talking about?' he asked.
- •I looked at my watch. 'I haven't time,' I told him. 'I ought to be in the office now, changing the reservations.'
- •I watched a fly settle on the marmalade, and he brushed it away impatiently.
- •I hesitated, but she went on, thank heaven, not waiting for my answer.
- •I wished she would go; she was like a shadow standing there, watching me, appraising me with her hollow eyes, set in that dead skull's face.
- •I shook my head. 'No, I'd rather not,' I said, 'No, I must go downstairs.' I began to walk down the stairs, and she came with me, by my side, as though she were a warder, and I in custody.
- •I was not prepared for this question, and she must have seen the surprise in my face, for she laughed lightly, and squeezed my arm.
- •I explained about Mrs Van Hopper, and what had led to it, and she seemed sympathetic but a little vague, as though she was thinking of something else.
- •I listened to them both, leaning against Maxim's arm, rubbing my chin on his sleeve. He stroked my hand absently, not thinking, talking to Beatrice.
- •I was not sure where Beatrice had blundered, and thought it better not to ask. Perhaps he still resented the chat about his health before lunch.
- •I said nothing; it was not my affair.
- •It was the sort of remark Frank Crawley always made. Safe, conventional, very correct.
- •I looked straight ahead of me along the drive, but I could see his face was turned towards me, as though he wished to read my expression.
- •I stopped breathless, already a little ashamed of my outburst, feeling that now at any rate I had burnt my boats for all time. He turned to me looking very concerned and troubled.
- •I looked up from Jasper, my face red as fire. 'Darling,' I said, 'I meant to tell you before, but – but I forgot. The fact is I broke that cupid when I was in the morning-room yesterday.'
- •It was like being a prisoner, giving evidence. How paltry and mean my actions sounded, even to myself. 'I put them all into an envelope,' I said.
- •I came out from behind the door looking no doubt as big a fool as I felt. 'No, of course not,' I said, 'I heard voices, I was not quite sure who it was. I did not expect any callers this afternoon.'
- •I was surprised at his tone. It sounded as though he knew him well. It was queer, to hear Maxim talked of as Max. No one called him that.
- •I wanted to run away, but I could not move. I went on watching her eyes.
- •I shook my head. 'No,' I said. 'No.'
- •I forced a smile. I could not speak. My throat felt dry and tight.
- •I swallowed. I dug my nails into my hands.
- •I wondered why. However, it was simpler not to say anything.
- •I smiled, waiting to be asked. The old lady turned her head in my direction. 'What's Bee talking about?' she said. 'I did not know you were an artist. We've never had any artists in the family.'
- •I saw a slow smile pass over the calm, placid face. 'I like water-cress day,' she said.
- •I stared straight in front of me down the road. I did not mind for myself. I should not have cared if I had been alone. I minded for Beatrice.
- •It was a moment or two before Maxim replied, and when he did his voice was quite calm and matter-of-fact.
- •I heard Frank's quiet voice beside me. 'I don't mind organizing the ball if Maxim has no objection to giving it. It's up to him and Mrs de Winter. It's nothing to do with me.'
- •I pretended to file my nails. They were too short and too brittle, but the action gave me something to do and I did not have to look at her.
- •I began to laugh weakly, the tears coming into my eyes. 'Oh dear,' I said, 'let's send wires to everybody not to come.'
- •I covered my own mousy hair with the curled wig, trying to hide my triumph, trying to hide my smile. Somebody came and hammered on the door.
- •I drank some to please her, not wanting it a bit. It tasted warm from the tap; she had not let it run.
- •I did not say anything. I went on sitting on the bed with my hands in my lap.
- •I caught sight of Giles peering at me through the open door.
- •I hesitated, Frank was the only person I did not mind knowing. 'He did not come to bed last night.'
- •I did not know what to say. The situation was mad, unreal. She kept talking in that choked muffled way with her head turned from me.
- •I remembered crouching in the gallery when the library door was open. I remembered Maxim's voice raised in anger, using the words that Mrs Danvers had just repeated. Jealous, Maxim jealous...
- •I backed away from her towards the window, my old fear and horror rising up in me again. She took my arm and held it like a vice.
- •I did not say anything. He hesitated. I felt his eyes upon me.
- •I stared at him, bewildered at first, then shocked, then rather sick.
- •I stared at him stupidly, not understanding. 'What will they do?' I said.
- •I sat on the floor, clasping my knees, staring at him.
- •I did not say anything. We stared at one another. I felt the little pain come again at the pit of my stomach.
- •I wondered how much pleasure it had given him to disguise himself as Cromwell. I had not seen much of him at the ball. He had spent most of the evening in the morning-room, playing bridge.
- •I sat down on the chair beside the fireplace. I held the arms of the chair very tight. Frank came over and stood behind the chair. Still Maxim did not move. He never took his eyes off Favell.
- •I saw Maxim go very white, and a little pulse began to show on his forehead. 'Don't interfere with this, Frank,' he said, 'this is my affair entirely. I'm not going to give way to blackmail.'
- •I heard Maxim's voice, very cool, very calm. 'I want Kerrith 17,' he said.
- •In a few minutes Frank came back again into the room.
- •I waited, waited. Why couldn't he get done with it and finish and let us go? Why must we sit there, waiting, our eyes upon his face.
- •I glanced at him and saw his face. I saw his eyes.
- •394 Мультиязыковой проект Ильи Франка www.Franklang.Ru
I saw a slow smile pass over the calm, placid face. 'I like water-cress day,' she said.
The tea was scalding, much too hot to drink. The nurse drank hers in tiny sips.
'Boiling water today,' she said, nodding at Beatrice. 'I have such trouble about it. They will let the tea stew. I've told them time and time again about it. They will not listen.'
'Oh, they're all the same,' said Beatrice. 'I've given it up as a bad job.' The old lady stirred hers with a spoon, her eyes very far and distant. I wished I knew what she was thinking about.
'Did you have fine weather in Italy?' said the nurse.
'Yes, it was very warm,' I said.
Beatrice turned to her grandmother. "They had lovely weather in Italy for their honeymoon, she says. Maxim got quite sunburnt.'
'Why isn't Maxim here today?' said the old lady.
'We told you, darling, Maxim had to go to London,' said Beatrice impatiently. 'Some dinner, you know. Giles went too.'
'Oh, I see. Why did you say Maxim was in Italy?'
'He was in Italy, Gran. In April. They're back at Manderley now.' She glanced at the nurse, shrugging her shoulders.
'Mr and Mrs de Winter are in Manderley now,' repeated the nurse.
'It's been lovely there this month,' I said, drawing nearer to Maxim's grandmother. 'The roses are in bloom now. I wish I had brought you some.'
'Yes, I like roses,' she said vaguely, and then peering closer at me with her dim blue eyes. 'Are you staying at Manderley too?'
I swallowed. There was a slight pause. Then Beatrice broke in with her loud, impatient voice, 'Gran, darling, you know perfectly well she lives there now. She and Maxim are married.'
I noticed the nurse put down her cup of tea and glance swiftly at the old lady. She had relaxed against the pillows, plucking at her shawl, and her mouth began to tremble. 'You talk too much, all of you. I don't understand.' Then she looked across at me, a frown on her face, and began shaking her head. 'Who are you, my dear, I haven't seen you before? I don't know your face. I don't remember you at Manderley. Bee, who is this child? Why did not Maxim bring Rebecca? I'm so fond of Rebecca. Where is dear Rebecca?'
There was a long pause, a moment of agony. I felt my cheeks grow scarlet. The nurse got to her feet very quickly and went to the bath-chair.
'I want Rebecca,' repeated the old lady, 'what have you done with Rebecca?'
Beatrice rose clumsily from the table, shaking the cups and saucers. She too had turned very red, and her mouth twitched.
'I think you'd better go, Mrs Lacy,' said the nurse, rather pink and flustered. 'She's looking a little tired, and when she wanders like this it sometimes lasts a few hours. She does get excited like this from time to time. It's very unfortunate it should happen today. I'm sure you will understand, Mrs de Winter?' She turned apologetically to me.
'Of course,' I said quickly, 'it's much better we should go.'
Beatrice and I groped for our bags and gloves. The nurse had turned to her patient again. 'Now, what's all this about? Do you want your nice water-cress sandwich that I've cut for you?'
'Where is Rebecca? Why did not Maxim come and bring Rebecca?' replied the thin, tired, querulous voice.
We went through the drawing-room to the hall and let ourselves out of the front door. Beatrice started up the car without a word. We drove down the smooth gravel drive and out of the white gates.