Kitabı oku: «Рассказы / Short Stories», sayfa 12

When they came into the hall of the boarding-house she ran up to her room and brought down the framed photograph of the man. Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.

“He gave me this the night he left for Italy,” said Miss Conway.

“A fine-looking man,” said Mr. Donovan, heartily. “May I ask you to give me the pleasure of your company to the theatre next Sunday afternoon?”

A month later they announced their engagement. Miss Conway continued to wear black.

A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the downtown park. It was a fine clear night. The moon shone brightly on the green leaves. Everything around them was very nice. But Donovan was silent all day. He was silent.

“What’s the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy tonight?”

“Nothing, Maggie.”

“I know better. What is it?”

“It’s nothing much, Maggie.”

“Yes it is; and I want to know. I’ll bet it’s some other girl you are thinking about. All right. Why don’t you go get her if you want her? Take your arm away, if you please.”

“I’ll tell you then,” said Andy, wisely, “but I guess you won’t understand it exactly. You’ve heard of Mike Sullivan, haven’t you? ‘Big Mike’ Sullivan, everybody calls him.”

“No, I haven’t,” said Maggie. “Who is he?”

“He’s the biggest man in New York,” said Andy, almost reverently. “Well, Big Mike’s a friend of mine. Mike’s as good a friend to a little man, or a poor man as he is to a big one. I met him to-day, and what do you think he does?Comes up and shakes hands³⁰. I told him I was going to get married in two weeks. ‘Andy,’ says he, ‘send me an invitation, and I’ll come to the wedding.’ That’s what Big Mike says to me; and he always does what he says. You don’t understand it, Maggie, but if Big Mike Sullivan comes to our wedding, it will be the proudest day of my life.”

“Why don’t you invite him?” said Maggie, lightly.

“There’s a reason why I can’t,” said Andy, sadly. “There’s a reason why he mustn’t be there. Don’t ask me what it is, for I can’t tell you”.

“But you must tell me everything!”

“Maggie, do you love me as much as you loved your Count Mazzini?”