Голод
Part I
Isat,andwasforalongtimepleasedwiththisthought.Timewent.Thewindblewlustilythroughthechestnuttreesaroundme,andthedaydeclined.
Afterall,wasitnotratherpettytocomeslinkingupwithsixshaving-ticketstoayounggentlemanholdingagoodpositioninabank?Perhaps,hehadalreadyabook,maybetwo,quitefullofspickandspantickets,acontrasttothecrumpledonesIheld.
Whocouldtell?IfeltinallmypocketsforanythingelseIcouldletgowiththem,butfoundnothing.IfIcouldonlyofferhimmytie?IcouldwelldowithoutitifIbuttonedmycoattightlyup,which,bytheway,Iwasalreadyobligedtodo,asIhadnowaistcoat.Iuntiedit—itwasalargeoverlappingbowwhichhidhalfmychest,—brusheditcarefully,andfoldeditupinapieceofcleanwhitewriting-paper,togetherwiththetickets.ThenIleftthechurchyardandtooktheroadleadingtotheOpland.
ItwassevenbytheTownHallclock.Iwalkedupanddownhardbythecafé,keptclosetotheironrailings,andkeptasharpwatchonallwhowentinandcameoutofthedoor.Atlast,abouteighto’clock,Isawtheyoungfellow,fresh,elegantlydressed,comingupthehillandacrosstothecafedoor.MyheartflutteredlikealittlebirdinmybreastasIcaughtsightofhim,andIblurtedout,withoutevenagreeting:
"Sixpence,oldfriend!"Isaid,puttingoncheek;"hereistheworthofit,"andIthrustthelittlepacketintohishand.
