Читать книгу Мартин Иден / Martin Eden (+ аудиоприложение LECTA) - Джек Лондон, William Hootkins - Страница 3

Their journey to the dining room was a nightmare to him. But at last he had made it. The array of knives and forks frightened him. Well, he must be careful here.

He glanced around the table. Opposite him was Arthur, and Arthur’s brother, Norman. How they loved each other, the members of this family! His nature wanted love. It was an organic demand of his life. He had not known that he needed love.

He was glad that Mr. Morse was not there. The father is too much for him, he felt sure. He had to eat as he had never eaten before, to handle strange tools.

He was unaware of what he ate. It was merely food. Eating was an aesthetic function. It was an intellectual function, too. His mind was stirred. He heard words that were meaningless to him, and other words that he had seen only in books. He said, “Yes, miss,” and “No, miss,” to her, and “Yes, ma’am,” and “No, ma’am,” to her mother. And when she or her mother addressed him as “Mr. Eden,” he was glowing and warm with delight.

“It was brave of you to help Arthur – and you a stranger,” she said tactfully.

“It was nothing at all,” he said. “Those boys were looking for trouble. They began to insult Arthur, and – ”

He paused. Arthur continued the story, for the twentieth time, of his adventure with the drunken hooligans on the ferry-boat and of how Martin Eden had rescued him.

Martin Eden nodded. He began to tell the company about his sea life, what he saw and what he knew.

For the first time he became himself. And while he talked, the girl looked at him with startled eyes. His fire warmed her. She wanted to lean toward this burning, blazing man that was like a volcano full of strength, and health. Ruth saw horror in her mother’s eyes – fascinated horror, it was true, but none the less horror. This man from the darkness was evil. Her mother saw it, and her mother was right. She will trust her mother’s judgment in this as she had always trusted it in all things.

Later, at the piano, she played for him. And she, glancing at him across her shoulder, saw something in his face.

“The greatest time of my life, you see. . . It’s all new to me, and I like it.”

“I hope you’ll visit us again,” she said, as he was saying good night to her brothers.

He pulled on his cap, and was gone.

“Well, what do you think of him?” Arthur demanded.

“He is interesting,” she answered. “How old is he?”

“Twenty – almost twenty-one. I asked him this afternoon. I didn’t think he was that young.”

And I am three years older, was the thought in her mind as she kissed her brothers goodnight.