The Beautiful and Damned F. Scott Fitzgerald (top novels to read TXT) đ
- Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald
Book online «The Beautiful and Damned F. Scott Fitzgerald (top novels to read TXT) đ». Author F. Scott Fitzgerald
âGloria!â
She started violently. Anthony was not two hundred feet behind her.
âGloria, wait for me!â
She shut her lips tightly to keep from screaming, and increased her gait. Before she had gone another hundred yards the woods disappeared, rolling back like a dark stocking from the leg of the road. Three minutesâ walk ahead of her, suspended in the now high and limitless air, she saw a thin interlacing of attenuated gleams and glitters, centred in a regular undulation on some one invisible point. Abruptly she knew where she would go. That was the great cascade of wires that rose high over the river, like the legs of a gigantic spider whose eye was the little green light in the switch-house, and ran with the railroad bridge in the direction of the station. The station! There would be the train to take her away.
âGloria, itâs me! Itâs Anthony! Gloria, I wonât try to stop you! For Godâs sake, where are you?â
She made no answer but began to run, keeping on the high side of the road and leaping the gleaming puddlesâ âdimensionless pools of thin, unsubstantial gold. Turning sharply to the left, she followed a narrow wagon road, serving to avoid a dark body on the ground. She looked up as an owl hooted mournfully from a solitary tree. Just ahead of her she could see the trestle that led to the railroad bridge and the steps mounting up to it. The station lay across the river.
Another sounds startled her, the melancholy siren of an approaching train, and almost simultaneously, a repeated call, thin now and far away.
âGloria! Gloria!â
Anthony must have followed the main road. She laughed with a sort of malicious cunning at having eluded him; she could spare the time to wait until the train went by.
The siren soared again, closer at hand, and then, with no anticipatory roar and clamor, a dark and sinuous body curved into view against the shadows far down the high-banked track, and with no sound but the rush of the cleft wind and the clocklike tick of the rails, moved toward the bridgeâ âit was an electric train. Above the engine two vivid blurs of blue light formed incessantly a radiant crackling bar between them, which, like a spluttering flame in a lamp beside a corpse, lit for an instant the successive rows of trees and caused Gloria to draw back instinctively to the far side of the road. The light was tepid, the temperature of warm blood.â ââ ⊠The clicking blended suddenly with itself in a rush of even sound, and then, elongating in sombre elasticity, the thing roared blindly by her and thundered onto the bridge, racing the lurid shaft of fire it cast into the solemn river alongside. Then it contracted swiftly, sucking in its sound until it left only a reverberant echo, which died upon the farther bank.
Silence crept down again over the wet country; the faint dripping resumed, and suddenly a great shower of drops tumbled upon Gloria stirring her out of the trance-like torpor which the passage of the train had wrought. She ran swiftly down a descending level to the bank and began climbing the iron stairway to the bridge, remembering that it was something she had always wanted to do, and that she would have the added excitement of traversing the yard-wide plank that ran beside the tracks over the river.
There! This was better. She was at the top now and could see the lands about her as successive sweeps of open country, cold under the moon, coarsely patched and seamed with thin rows and heavy clumps of trees. To her right, half a mile down the river, which trailed away behind the light like the shiny, slimy path of a snail, winked the scattered lights of Marietta. Not two hundred yards away at the end of the bridge squatted the station, marked by a sullen lantern. The oppression was lifted nowâ âthe treetops below her were rocking the young starlight to a haunted doze. She stretched out her arms with a gesture of freedom. This was what she had wanted, to stand alone where it was high and cool.
âGloria!â
Like a startled child she scurried along the plank, hopping, skipping, jumping, with an ecstatic sense of her own physical lightness. Let him come nowâ âshe no longer feared that, only she must first reach the station, because that was part of the game. She was happy. Her hat, snatched off, was clutched tightly in her hand, and her short curled hair bobbed up and down about her ears. She had thought she would never feel so young again, but this was her night, her world. Triumphantly she laughed as she left the plank, and reaching the wooden platform flung herself down happily beside an iron roof-post.
âHere I am!â she called, gay as the dawn in her elation. âHere I am, Anthony, dearâ âold, worried Anthony.â
âGloria!â He reached the platform, ran toward her. âAre you all right?â Coming up he knelt and took her in his arms.
âYes.â
âWhat was the matter? Why did you leave?â he queried anxiously.
âI had toâ âthere was somethingââ âshe paused and a flicker of uneasiness lashed at her mindâ ââthere was something sitting on meâ âhere.â She put her hand on her breast. âI had to go out and get away from it.â
âWhat do you mean by âsomethingâ?â
âI donât knowâ âthat man Hullâ ââ
âDid he bother you?â
âHe came to my door, drunk. I think Iâd gotten sort of crazy by that time.â
âGloria, dearestâ ââ
Wearily she laid her head upon his shoulder.
âLetâs go back,â he suggested.
She shivered.
âUh! No, I couldnât. Itâd come and sit on me again.â Her voice rose to a cry that hung plaintive on the darkness. âThat thingâ ââ
âThereâ âthere,â he soothed her, pulling her close to him. âWe wonât do anything you donât want to do. What do you want to do? Just sit here?â
âI wantâ âI want to go away.â
âWhere?â
âOhâ âanywhere.â
âBy golly, Gloria,â
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