Тяжёлые времена

Gunpowder

           

           Shehadmadetheslightestactionpossible,asifshewouldhaveriseninahurryandgoneaway.Hehadturnedthecourseofwhathesaidatthatinstant,andsheremained.

           ‘Mrs.Bounderby,’heresumed,inalightermanner,andyetwithashowofeffortinassumingit,whichwasevenmoreexpressivethanthemannerhedismissed;‘itisnoirrevocableoffenceinayoungfellowofyourbrother’syears,ifheisheedless,inconsiderate,andexpensivealittledissipated,inthecommonphrase.Ishe?’

           ‘Yes.’

           ‘Allowmetobefrank.Doyouthinkhegamesatall?’

           ‘Ithinkhemakesbets.’Mr.Harthousewaiting,asifthatwerenotherwholeanswer,sheadded,‘Iknowhedoes.’

           ‘Ofcourseheloses?’

           ‘Yes.’

           ‘Everybodydoeslosewhobets.MayIhintattheprobabilityofyoursometimessupplyinghimwithmoneyforthesepurposes?’

           Shesat,lookingdown;but,atthisquestion,raisedhereyessearchinglyandalittleresentfully.

           ‘Acquitmeofimpertinentcuriosity,mydearMrs.Bounderby.IthinkTommaybegraduallyfallingintotrouble,andIwishtostretchoutahelpinghandtohimfromthedepthsofmywickedexperience.ShallIsayagain,forhissake?Isthatnecessary?’

           Sheseemedtotrytoanswer,butnothingcameofit.

           ‘Candidlytoconfesseverythingthathasoccurredtome,’saidJamesHarthouse,againglidingwiththesameappearanceofeffortintohismoreairymanner;‘Iwillconfidetoyoumydoubtwhetherhehashadmanyadvantages.

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