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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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Athalie
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"Please don't, Clive! – "
" – Which," he insisted, "I did not see… Could not see!"
"Clive!"
He stared at her rather blankly: "Why don't you tell me?"
"I – can't!"
"Is there anything – "
"Don't! Don't!" she begged; but he went on, still staring at her:
"Is there any reason for you to – not to be frank with me? Is there, Athalie?"
"No; no reason… I'll tell you … if you will understand. Must I tell you?"
"Yes."
Her head fell; she stood plucking nervously at his fur coat for a while in silence. Then:
"Clive, I – I see clearly."
"What?"
"I mean that I see a – a little more clearly than – some do. Do you understand?"
"No."
She sighed, stood twisting her white-gloved fingers, looking away from him.
"I am clairvoyant," she breathed.
"Athalie! You?"
She nodded.
For a second or two he stood silent in his astonishment; then, taking her hand, he drew her around facing the light, and she looked up at him in her lovely abashed way, yet so honestly, that anybody who could recognise truth and candour, could never have mistaken such eyes as hers.
"Who told you that you are clairvoyant?" he asked.
"My mother."
"Then – "
"It was not necessary for anybody to tell me that I saw – more clearly – than other people… Mother knew it… She merely explained and gave a name to this – this – whatever it is – this quality – this ability to see clearly… That is all, Clive."
He was evidently trying to comprehend and digest what she had said. She watched him, saw surprise and incredulity in conflict with uneasiness and with the belief he could not avoid from lips that were not fashioned for lies, and from eyes never made to even look untruths.
"I had never supposed there was such a thing as real clairvoyance," he said at last.
She remained silent, her candid gaze on him.
"I believe that you believe it, of course."
She smiled, then sighed:
"There is no pleasure in it to me. I wish it were not so."
"But, if it is so, you ought to find it – interesting – "
"No."
"Why not? I should think you would! – if you can see – things – that other people cannot."
"I don't care to see them."
"Why?"
"They – I see them so often – and I seldom know who they are – "
"They?"
"The – people – I see."
"Don't they ever speak to you?"
"Seldom."
"Could you find out who they are?"
"I don't know… Yes, I think so; – if I made an effort."
"Don't you ever use any effort to evoke – "
"Oh, Clive! No! When I tell you I had rather not see so – so clearly – "
"You dear girl!" he exclaimed, half smiling, half serious, "why should it distress you?"
"It doesn't – except to talk about it."
"Let me ask one more question. May I?"
She nodded.
"Then – did you recognise whoever it was you saw a few moments ago?"
"Yes."
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Так получилось, что книга ко мне попала в тяжелый эмоциональный кризис и многое мне дала. Написано актуально, тут многих полезных вещей, никакого злоу...
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