Тяжёлые времена

Effects in the Bank

           ‘Isshe?’

           ‘Excusemyimpertinentcuriosity,’pursuedthestranger,flutteringoverMrs.Sparsit’seyebrows,withapropitiatoryair,‘butyouknowthefamily,andknowtheworld.Iamabouttoknowthefamily,andmayhavemuchtodowiththem.Istheladysoveryalarming?Herfathergiveshersuchaportentouslyhard-headedreputation,thatIhaveaburningdesiretoknow.Issheabsolutelyunapproachable?Repellentlyandstunninglyclever?Isee,byyourmeaningsmile,youthinknot.Youhavepouredbalmintomyanxioussoul.Astoage,now.Forty?Fiveandthirty?’

           Mrs.Sparsitlaughedoutright.‘Achit,’saidshe.‘Nottwentywhenshewasmarried.’

           ‘Igiveyoumyhonour,Mrs.Powler,’returnedthestranger,detachinghimselffromthetable,‘thatIneverwassoastonishedinmylife!’

           Itreallydidseemtoimpresshim,totheutmostextentofhiscapacityofbeingimpressed.Helookedathisinformantforfullaquarterofaminute,andappearedtohavethesurpriseinhismindallthetime.‘Iassureyou,Mrs.Powler,’hethensaid,muchexhausted,‘thatthefather’smannerpreparedmeforagrimandstonymaturity.Iamobligedtoyou,ofallthings,forcorrectingsoabsurdamistake.Prayexcusemyintrusion.Manythanks.Goodday!’

           Hebowedhimselfout;andMrs.Sparsit,hidinginthewindowcurtain,sawhimlanguishingdownthestreetontheshadysideoftheway,observedofallthetown.

           ‘Whatdoyouthinkofthegentleman,Bitzer?’sheaskedthelightporter,whenhecametotakeaway.

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