Тяжёлые времена

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           ‘Why,whatdoyoumeanbythis?’washishighlyunexpecteddemand,ingreatwarmth.‘Iaskyou,whatdoyoumeanbythis,Mrs.Sparsit,ma’am?’

           ‘Sir!’exclaimedMrs.Sparsit,faintly.

           ‘Whydon’tyoumindyourownbusiness,ma’am?’roaredBounderby.‘Howdareyougoandpokeyourofficiousnoseintomyfamilyaffairs?’

           ThisallusiontoherfavouritefeatureoverpoweredMrs.Sparsit.Shesatdownstifflyinachair,asifshewerefrozen;andwithafixedstareatMr.Bounderby,slowlygratedhermittensagainstoneanother,asiftheywerefrozentoo.

           ‘MydearJosiah!’criedMrs.Pegler,trembling.‘Mydarlingboy!Iamnottoblame.It’snotmyfault,Josiah.Itoldthisladyoverandoveragain,thatIknewshewasdoingwhatwouldnotbeagreeabletoyou,butshewoulddoit.’

           ‘Whatdidyouletherbringyoufor?Couldn’tyouknockhercapoff,orhertoothout,orscratchher,ordosomethingorothertoher?’askedBounderby.

           ‘Myownboy!ShethreatenedmethatifIresistedher,Ishouldbebroughtbyconstables,anditwasbettertocomequietlythanmakethatstirinsucha’Mrs.Peglerglancedtimidlybutproudlyroundthewalls‘suchafinehouseasthis.Indeed,indeed,itisnotmyfault!Mydear,noble,statelyboy!Ihavealwayslivedquiet,andsecret,Josiah,mydear.Ihaveneverbrokentheconditiononce.IhaveneversaidIwasyourmother.

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