Chapter 9

           Nextmorning,beforetheusualhourforpayingcalls,theretrippedfromtheportalsofanorange-colouredwoodenhousewithanatticstoreyandarowofbluepillarsaladyinanelegantplaidcloak.Withhercameafootmaninamany-capedgreatcoatandapolishedtophatwithagoldband.Hastily,butgracefully,theladyascendedthestepsletdownfromakoliaskawhichwasstandingbeforetheentrance,andassoonasshehaddonesothefootmanshutherin,putupthestepsagain,and,catchingholdofthestrapbehindthevehicle,shoutedtothecoachman,“Rightaway!”Thereasonofallthiswasthattheladywasthepossessorofapieceofintelligencethatshewasburningtocommunicatetoafellow-creature.Everymomentshekeptlookingoutofthecarriagewindow,andperceiving,withalmostspeechlessvexation,that,asyet,shewasbuthalf-wayonherjourney.Thefrontsofthehousesappearedtoherlongerthanusual,andinparticulardidthefrontofthewhitestonehospital,withitsrowsofnarrowwindows,seeminterminabletoadegreewhichatlengthforcedhertoejaculate:“Oh,thecursedbuilding!Positivelythereisnoendtoit!”Also,shetwiceadjuredthecoachmanwiththewords,“Goquicker,Andrusha!Youareahorriblylongtimeoverthejourneythismorning.”Butatlengththegoalwasreached,andthekoliaskastoppedbeforeaone-storiedwoodenmansion,darkgreyincolour,andhavingwhitecarvingsoverthewindows,atallwoodenfenceandnarrowgardeninfrontofthelatter,andafewmeagretreesloomingwhitewithanincongruouscoatingofroaddust.