Финансист

Chapter LIII

           Whenhewasgone,however,andthenightfellandCowperwoodhadtotrimhislittle,shabbyoil-lampandtodrinkthestrongteaandeattherough,poorbreadmadeofbranandwhiteflour,whichwasshovedtohimthroughthesmallapertureinthedoorbythetrenchertrusty,whowasaccompaniedbytheoverseertoseethatitwasdoneproperly,hereallyfeltverybadly.Andafterthatthecenterwoodendoorofhiscellwaspresentlyclosedandlockedbyatrustywhoslammeditrudelyandsaidnoword.Nineo’clockwouldbesoundedsomewherebyagreatbell,heunderstood,whenhissmokyoil-lampwouldhavetobeputoutpromptlyandhewouldhavetoundressandgotobed.Therewerepunishments,nodoubt,forinfractionsoftheserules—reducedrations,thestrait-jacket,perhapsstripes—hescarcelyknewwhat.Hefeltdisconsolate,grim,weary.Hehadputupsuchalong,unsatisfactoryfight.Afterwashinghisheavystonecupandtinplateatthehydrant,hetookoffthesickeninguniformandshoesandeventhedrawersofthescratchingunderwear,andstretchedhimselfwearilyonthebed.Theplacewasnotanytoowarm,andhetriedtomakehimselfcomfortablebetweentheblankets—butitwasoflittleuse.Hissoulwascold.

           "Thiswillneverdo,"hesaidtohimself."Thiswillneverdo.I’mnotsurewhetherIcanstandmuchofthisornot."Stillheturnedhisfacetothewall,andafterseveralhourssleepeventuallycame.

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