"Alexander Green - Crimson Sails" - читать интересную книгу автора (Green Alexander)

of inner shyness, that suffering wrinkle which prevents one from bringing
or receiving cheer. Others mocked her, saying: "She's touched in the
head", "out of her mind" -- she had become accustomed to this pain, too.
The girl had even suffered insults, after which her breast would ache as
from a blow. She was not a popular girl in Kaperna, although many
suspected that there was more to her than to others--but in a different
tongue. The men of Kaperna adored stout, heavy-limbed women with oily
skin on their large calves arid powerful arms; they courted them here by
slapping them on the back and jostling them as they would in a crowded
market place. The style of such emotion resembled the unsophisticated
simplicity of a roar. Assol was as well suited to this determined milieu as
the society of a ghost would be to extremely high-strung people, had it
even possessed all the charm of Assunta or Aspasia; anything resembling
love here was out of the question. Thus, meeting the steady blast of a
soldier's bugle, the sweet sadness of a violin is powerless to bring the stern
regiment out from under the influence of its straight planes. The girl stood
with her back to all that has been said in these lines.
While she was humming a song of life, her small hands were working
swiftly and adroitly; biting off a thread, she looked off, but this did not
stop her from turning the hem evenly or stitching it with the accuracy of a
sewing machine. Although Longren did not return, she was not worried
about her father. Of late, he had often set out fishing in his boat at night
or simply for some air. Fear did not gnaw at her: she knew that no ill
would befall him. In this respect Assol was still the little girl that had
prayed in her own way, lisping fondly, "Good morning, God!" in the
morning and: "Goodbye, God!" in the evening.
In her opinion such a first-hand acquaintance with God was quite
sufficient for Him to ward off any disaster. She imagined herself in His
place: God was forever occupied with the affairs of millions of people and,
therefore, she believed that one should regard the ordinary shadows of life
with the polite patience of a guest who, discovering the house full of
people, waits for the bustling host, finding food and shelter as best he can.
Having done with her sewing, Assol folded her work on the corner table,
undressed and went to bed. The lamp had been turned off. She soon
noticed that she was not sleepy; her mind was as clear as it was in the
middle of the day, and even the darkness seemed artificial; her body, as
her mind, felt carefree and dayish. Her heart beat as rapidly as a pocket
watch; it seemed to be beating between the pillow and her ear. Assol was
annoyed; she twisted and turned, now flinging off the blanket, now rolling
up in it, pulling it over her head. At last she was able to bring on the
familiar scene that helped her to fall asleep: she imagined herself tossing
pebbles into clear water and watching the faint circles grow wider and
wider. Sleep seemed to have been awaiting this handout; it came,
whispered with Mary, who stood at the head of the bed and, obeying her
smile, said "Shhh" to everything all around. Assol was asleep instantly. She
dreamed her favourite dream: of blossoming trees, a yearning,
enchantment, songs and strange scenes, of which, upon awakening, she
could recall only the glitter of the blue water rising from her feet to her
heart with a chill of delight. After dreaming of all this, she remained in
that improbable world for a while longer and then awakened fully and sat