Маленький лорд Фаунтлерой

Chapter XI

           Aftertwoorthreeweeks,however,duringwhich,insteadofgettingbetter,mattersreallygrewworse,anovelplanslowlyanddeliberatelydawneduponhim.HewouldgotoseeDick.Hesmokedagreatmanypipesbeforehearrivedattheconclusion,butfinallyhedidarriveatit.HewouldgotoseeDick.HeknewallaboutDick.Cedrichadtoldhim,andhisideawasthatperhapsDickmightbesomecomforttohiminthewayoftalkingthingsover.

           SoonedaywhenDickwasveryhardatworkblackingacustomer’sboots,ashort,stoutmanwithaheavyfaceandabaldheadstoppedonthepavementandstaredfortwoorthreeminutesatthebootblack’ssign,whichread:

           “PROFESSORDICKTIPTONCAN’TBEBEAT.”

           HestaredatitsolongthatDickbegantotakealivelyinterestinhim,andwhenhehadputthefinishingtouchtohiscustomer’sboots,hesaid:

           “Wantashine,sir?”

           Thestoutmancameforwarddeliberatelyandputhisfootontherest.

           “Yes,”hesaid.

           ThenwhenDickfelltowork,thestoutmanlookedfromDicktothesignandfromthesigntoDick.

           “Wheredidyougetthat?”heasked.

           “Fromafriendo’mine,”saidDick,—“alittlefeller.Heguv’methewholeoutfit.Hewasthebestlittlefelleryeeversaw.He’sinEnglandnow.Gonetobeoneo’themlords.”

           “Lord—Lord—”askedMr.Hobbs,withponderousslowness,“LordFauntleroy—Goin’tobeEarlofDorincourt?”

           Dickalmostdroppedhisbrush.

           “Why,boss!”heexclaimed,“d’yeknowhimyerself?”

           “I’veknownhim,”answeredMr.Hobbs,wipinghiswarmforehead,“eversincehewasborn.

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