"stoker-dracula-168" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stoker Bram)

kicked the dog, and then took it by the scruff of the neck and half
dragged and half threw it on the tombstone on which the seat is fixed.
The moment it touched the stone the poor thing became quiet and fell
all into a tremble. It did not try to get away, but crouched down,
quivering and cowering, and was in such a pitiable state of terror
that I tried, though without effect, to comfort it. Lucy was full of
pity, too, but she did not attempt to touch the dog, but looked at
it in an agonised sort of way. I greatly fear that she is of too
supersensitive a nature to go through the world without trouble. She
will be dreaming of this to-night, I am sure. The whole
agglomeration of things- the ship steered into port by a dead man; his
attitude, tied to the wheel with a crucifix and beads; the touching
funeral; the dog, now furious and now in terror- will all afford
material for her dreams.

I think it will be best for her to go to bed tired out physically,
so I shall take her for a long walk by the cliffs to Robin Hood's
Bay and back. She ought not to have much inclination for sleep-walking
then.

CHAPTER VIII.

MINA MURRAY'S JOURNAL.

Same day, 11 o'clock p.m.- Oh, but I am tired! if it were not that I
had made my diary a duty I should not open it tonight. We had a lovely
walk. Lucy, after a while, was in gay spirits, owing, I think, to some
dear cows who came nosing towards us in a field close to the
lighthouse, and frightened the wits out of us. I believe we forgot
everything, except, of course, personal fear, and it seemed to wipe
there slate clean and give us a fresh start. We had a capital
"severe tea" at Robin Hood's Bay in a sweet little old-fashioned
inn, with a bow-window right over the seaweed-covered rocks of the
strand. I believe we should have shocked the "New Woman" with our
appetites. Men are more tolerant, bless them! Then we walked home with
some, or rather many, stoppages to rest, and with our hearts full of a
constant dread of wild bulls. Lucy was really tired, and we intended
to creep off to bed as soon as we could. The young curate came in,
however, and Mrs. Westenra asked him to stay for supper. Lucy and I
had both a fight for it with the dusty miller; I know it was a hard
fight on my part, and I am quite heroic. I think that some day the
bishops must get together and see about breeding up a new class of
curates, who don't take supper, no matter how they may be pressed
to, and who will know when girls are tired. Lucy is asleep and
breathing softly. She has more colour in her cheeks than usual, and
looks, oh, so sweet. If Mr. Holmwood fell in love with her seeing
her only in the drawingroom, I wonder what he would say if he saw
her now. Some of the "New Women" writers will some day start an idea
that men and women should be allowed to see each other asleep before
proposing or accepting. But I suppose the New Woman won't condescend