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Mr. Donovan suddenly decided to think about Miss Conway. He stood up.
“It’s a fine, clear evening |Какой прекрасный и безоблачный вечер|, Miss Conway,” he said.
“It is to them with the heart to enjoy it |Лишь для тех, кто может ему радоваться|, Mr. Donovan,” said Miss Conway. She took a deep slow breath.
“I hope no one—no one of your family—has died?”
“Death has taken |Смерть забрала|,” said Miss Conway, “not one of my family, but one who—I must not speak of my troubles to you, Mr. Donovan.”
“Why not, Miss Conway? Perhaps I could understand.”
Miss Conway smiled a little smile. And oh, her face was sadder than when she was not smiling.
“Laugh and the world laughs with you,” she said. “But the world is not interested in sadness. I have learned that, Mr. Donovan. I have no friends in this city. But you have been kind to me. Thank you for it.”
He had done nothing except offer her the salt at di
“It’s not easy to be alone in New York,” said Mr. Donovan. “But when New York is friendly, it’s very friendly. Shall we take a little walk in the park? It might be good for you.”
“Thanks, Mr. Donovan. I would enjoy it. But I don’t want my sadness to make you sad.”
They went through the open gates of the park and found a quiet seat.
“We were going to be married |Мы собирались пожениться| soon,” said Miss Conway. “He was a real Count. He had land and a big house in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name. My father didn’t want me to marry him. Once we ran away |убежали| to get married, and my father followed and took me home. I was afraid they were going to fight |собирались драться|.
“But then my father agreed. Fernando went to Italy to make everything ready for me. My father’s |was| very proud. Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for new clothes, and my father said no. When Fernando went away, I came to the city. I work in a shop.
“Three days ago I had a letter from Italy. It said that Fernando had been killed |был убит|.
“That is why I’m wearing black. My heart has died, Mr. Donovan, with Fernando. I ca
Now, readers, if a girl tells a man her heart has died, he wants to make it live again.
“I’m very sorry,” said Mr. Donovan. “No, we won’t walk back to the house yet. And don’t say you have no friends in this city, Miss Conway. I’m your friend, and I want you to believe that.”
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