Тяжёлые времена

Lower and Lower

           Thestationforthecountryhousewasattheoppositeendofthetown,thetimewasshort,theroadnoteasy;butshewassoquickinpouncingonadisengagedcoach,soquickindartingoutofit,producinghermoney,seizingherticket,anddivingintothetrain,thatshewasbornealongthearchesspanningthelandofcoal-pitspastandpresent,asifshehadbeencaughtupinacloudandwhirledaway.

           Allthejourney,immovableintheairthoughneverleftbehind;plaintothedarkeyesofhermind,astheelectricwireswhichruledacolossalstripofmusic-paperoutoftheeveningsky,wereplaintothedarkeyesofherbody;Mrs.Sparsitsawherstaircase,withthefigurecomingdown.Verynearthebottomnow.Uponthebrinkoftheabyss.

           AnovercastSeptemberevening,justatnightfall,sawbeneathitsdroopingeyelidsMrs.Sparsitglideoutofhercarriage,passdownthewoodenstepsofthelittlestationintoastonyroad,crossitintoagreenlane,andbecomehiddeninasummer-growthofleavesandbranches.Oneortwolatebirdssleepilychirpingintheirnests,andabatheavilycrossingandrecrossingher,andthereekofherowntreadinthethickdustthatfeltlikevelvet,wereallMrs.Sparsitheardorsawuntilsheverysoftlyclosedagate.

           Shewentuptothehouse,keepingwithintheshrubbery,andwentroundit,peepingbetweentheleavesatthelowerwindows.Mostofthemwereopen,astheyusuallywereinsuchwarmweather,buttherewerenolightsyet,andallwassilent.Shetriedthegardenwithnobettereffect.

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