Рождественская история
Chapter 1
Thefogandfrostsohungabouttheblackoldgatewayofthehouse,thatitseemedasiftheGeniusoftheWeathersatinmournfulmeditationonthethreshold.
Now,itisafact,thattherewasnothingatallparticularabouttheknockeronthedoor,exceptthatitwasverylarge.Itisalsoafact,thatScroogehadseenit,nightandmorning,duringhiswholeresidenceinthatplace;alsothatScroogehadaslittleofwhatiscalledfancyabouthimasanymaninthecityofLondon,evenincluding—whichisaboldword—thecorporation,aldermen,andlivery.LetitalsobeborneinmindthatScroogehadnotbestowedonethoughtonMarley,sincehislastmentionofhissevenyears’deadpartnerthatafternoon.Andthenletanymanexplaintome,ifhecan,howithappenedthatScrooge,havinghiskeyinthelockofthedoor,sawintheknocker,withoutitsundergoinganyintermediateprocessofchange—notaknocker,butMarley’sface.
Marley’sface.Itwasnotinimpenetrableshadowastheotherobjectsintheyardwere,buthadadismallightaboutit,likeabadlobsterinadarkcellar.Itwasnotangryorferocious,butlookedatScroogeasMarleyusedtolook:withghostlyspectaclesturneduponitsghostlyforehead.Thehairwascuriouslystirred,asifbybreathorhotair;and,thoughtheeyeswerewideopen,theywereperfectlymotionless.That,anditslividcolour,madeithorrible;butitshorrorseemedtobeinspiteofthefaceandbeyonditscontrol,ratherthanapartofitsownexpression.
