Читать книгу Поворот винта. Уровень 1 / The Turn of the Screw - Генри Джеймс, Henry Foss James - Страница 4

The first day had been mostly calming, as I said before, but it ended with a feeling of worry. The mail, which arrived late that evening, had a letter for me. However, when I saw that it was from my employer, I realized it was only a few words about another letter addressed to him, which was still unopened. “I see that this is from the headmaster, and the headmaster is very annoying. Please read it and deal with it, but make sure you don’t tell me anything. Not a word. I’m off!” I made a great effort to open the letter—it took me a long time to do it. Finally, I brought the unopened letter to my room and only read it just before going to bed. I should have waited until morning because it caused me another sleepless night. The next day, feeling upset and with no one to ask for advice, I decided to talk with Mrs. Grose.

“What does it mean? The child’s dismissed from school.”

She gave me a strange look, then seemed to try to take it back. “But aren’t they all—?”

“Sent home—yes. But only for the holidays. Miles may never go back at all.”

She blushed, “They won’t take him?”

“They absolutely won’t.”

At this she raised her eyes, which she had turned from me; I saw them fill with tears. “What has he done?”

I wasn’t sure, so I decided to give her my letter. This made her put her hands behind her without taking it. She sadly shook her head and said, “Such things are not for me, miss.”

My friend couldn’t read! I winced[11] at my mistake, but tried to make it better. I opened my letter to read it to her, but then I stopped and put it back in my pocket.

“Is he really bad?” The tears were still in her eyes. “Do the gentlemen say so?”

“They don’t say any details. They simply say that it should be impossible to keep him. That can have only one meaning.” Mrs. Grose listened quietly, and didn’t ask me what that might mean. So, to make sense of it in my own mind with her help, I continued: “That he spoils other children.”

At this, with one of the quick turns of simple folk, she suddenly flamed up. “Master Miles! Spoils? What horrors!” Mrs. Grose cried, “Well, is it possible to say such heartless words! After all, he is not even ten years old yet! “

“Yes, yes; it would be unbelievable.”

“See him, miss, first. Then believe it!” I wanted to see him as soon as possible. Mrs. Grose could tell that I was affected by her words, “You might as well believe it of the little lady. Bless her,” she added the next moment—”look at her!”

She then pointed out Flora, who had come to the open door. I turned and saw Flora. Ten minutes before, I had given her a sheet of white paper, a pencil, and a copy of nice “round O’s,” in the schoolroom. Flora seemed unbothered by unpleasant tasks and looked at me with loving eyes. She had followed me because she had developed an attachment to me. This made me understand Mrs. Grose’s point even more. I hugged Flora tightly and showered her with kisses.

However, for the rest of the day, I kept an eye out for an opportunity to talk to my colleague, especially because I felt like she was trying to avoid me. I caught up to her on the stairs, and we walked down together. Once we reached the bottom, I stopped her and held her arm. I told her that I understood her earlier comment as that she had never seen him misbehave.

She said, “Oh, I never said I haven’t seen him misbehave—I don’t say that!”

I was upset again. “Then you have seen him—?”

“Yes indeed, miss, thank God!”

“You mean that a boy who never is—?”

“Is no boy for me!”

I held her tighter. “You like them to be naughty[12]?” Then, keeping pace with her answer, “So do I!” I added. “But not to the point to corrupt[13]—”

“To corrupt?”—my big word confused her.

I explained it. “To spoil.”

She stared, trying to understand what I meant; but it made her laugh in a strange way. “Are you afraid he’ll corrupt you?” She asked with bold humor, and I laughed along, feeling a bit silly.

But the next day, as it got closer to the time for my drive, I brought up another question. “Who was the lady who was here before?”

“The previous governess? She was also young and pretty—almost as young and almost as pretty as you, miss.”

“Ah, then, I hope her youth and beauty helped her!” I remember saying. “He seems to like us young and pretty!”

“Oh, he did,” Mrs. Grose agreed. “That’s how he liked everyone!” She quickly corrected herself. “I mean, that’s how the master likes it.”

I was curious. “But who were you talking about earlier?”

She looked confused for a moment, but then blushed. “Why, about him.”

“The master?”

“Who else?”

It was clear that there was no one else, so I stopped thinking that she had accidentally said more than she wanted. Instead, I asked what I really wanted to know. “Did she notice anything strange about the boy…?”

“Anything strange? She never told me.”

I had a doubt, but I ignored it. “Was she careful?”

“About some things—yes.”

“But not about everything?”

Again she thought for a moment. “Well, miss— she’s gone. I won’t gossip[14].”

“I understand your feeling,” I quickly replied, but I thought, after a moment, that it was okay to ask: “Did she die here?”

“No—she left.”

I don’t know why Mrs. Grose’s answer seemed unclear to me. “Left to die? Was she sick, and went home?”

“She didn’t seem sick while she was here. At the end of the year, she left to go home for a short vacation, as she said. She had earned the time off. We had another young woman—a nanny—who stayed on and took care of the children during that time. But our young lady never returned, and just as I was expecting her, I received word from the master that she had died.”

“But of what?”

“He never told me! But please, miss,” said Mrs. Grose, “I must get to my work.”