Голод
Part III
Thenheswingsroundonhischair,andlooksatme.ObservingthatIamstillstandingnearthedoor,hemakesahalf-serious,half-playfulmotionwithhishand,andpointstoachair.
Iturnaside,sothathemaynotseethatIhavenowaistcoaton,whenIopenmycoattotakethemanuscriptoutofmypocket.
"ItisonlyalittlecharactersketchofCorreggio,"Isay;"butperhapsitis,worseluck,notwritteninsuchawaythat...."
Hetakesthepapersoutofmyhand,andcommencestogothroughthem.Hisfaceisturnedtowardsme.
Andsoitisthushelooksatclosequarters,thisman,whosenameIhadalreadyheardinmyearliestyouth,andwhosepaperhadexercisedthegreatestinfluenceuponmeastheyearsadvanced?Hishairiscurly,andhisbeautifulbrowneyesarealittlerestless.Hehasahabitoftweakinghisnosenowandthen.NoScotchministercouldlookmilderthanthistruculentwriter,whosepenalwaysleftbleedingscarswhereveritattacked.Apeculiarfeelingofaweandadmirationcomesovermeinthepresenceofthisman.Thetearsareonthepointofcomingtomyeyes,andIadvancedasteptotellhimhowheartilyIappreciatedhim,forallhehadtaughtme,andtobeghimnottohurtme;Iwasonlyapoorbunglingwretch,whohadhadasorryenoughtimeofitasitwas....
Helookedup,andplacedmymanuscriptslowlytogether,whilsthesatandconsidered.
