Thomas Wolfe: Of Time and the River, You Can't Go Home Again & Look Homeward, Angel. Thomas Wolfe
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Название: Thomas Wolfe: Of Time and the River, You Can't Go Home Again & Look Homeward, Angel
Автор: Thomas Wolfe
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Документальная литература
isbn: 9788027244539
isbn:
“Just a moment!” said Horse Hines quickly, lifting a finger. Briskly he took a stick of rouge from his pocket, stepped forward, and deftly, swiftly, sketched upon the dead gray cheeks a ghastly rose-hued mockery of life and health.
“There!” he said, with deep satisfaction; and, rouge-stick in hand, head critically cocked, like a painter before his canvas, he stepped back into the terrible staring prison of their horror.
“There are artists, boys, in every profession,” Horse Hines continued in a moment, with quiet pride, “and though I do say it myself, Luke, I’m proud of my work on this job. Look at him!” he exclaimed with sudden energy, and a bit of color in his gray face. “Did you ever see anything more natural in your life?”
Eugene turned upon the man a grim and purple stare, noting with pity, with a sort of tenderness, as the dogs of laughter tugged at his straining throat the earnestness and pride in the long horse-face.
“Look at it!” said Horse Hines again in slow wonder. “I’ll never beat that again! Not if I live to be a million! That’s art, boys!”
A slow strangling gurgle escaped from Eugene’s screwed lips. The sailor looked quickly at him, with a crazy suppressed smile.
“What’s the matter?” he said warningly. “Don’t, fool!” His grin broke loose.
Eugene staggered across the floor and collapsed upon a chair, roaring with laughter while his long arms flapped helplessly at his sides.
“Scuse!” he gasped. “Don’t mean to — A-r-rt! Yes! Yes! That’s it!” he screamed, and he beat his knuckles in a crazy tattoo upon the polished floor. He slid gently off the chair, slowly unbuttoning his vest, and with a languid hand loosening his necktie. A faint gurgle came from his weary throat, his head lolled around on the floor languidly, tears coursed down his swollen features.
“What’s wrong with you? Are you c-c-c-crazy?” said the sailor, all a-grin.
Horse Hines bent sympathetically and assisted the boy to his feet.
“It’s the strain,” he said knowingly to the sailor. “The pore fellow has become hysterical.”
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