Крошка Доррит

Chapter 26. Reaping the Whirlwind

           ‘Thoughit’swonderfulhowmanypeopleI’veheardof,whoweregoingtorealiseyesterday,ofalldaysinthethreehundredandsixty-five,ifithadn’tbeentoolate!’

           Hissteam-likebreathings,usuallydrollintheireffect,weremoretragicthansomanygroans:whilefromheadtofoot,hewasinthatbegrimed,besmeared,neglectedstate,thathemighthavebeenanauthenticportraitofMisfortunewhichcouldscarcelybediscernedthroughitswantofcleaning.

           ‘MrClennam,hadyoulaidout—everything?’Hegotoverthebreakbeforethelastword,andalsobroughtoutthelastworditselfwithgreatdifficulty.

           ‘Everything.’

           MrPanckstookholdofhistoughhairagain,andgaveitsuchawrenchthathepulledoutseveralprongsofit.Afterlookingatthesewithaneyeofwildhatred,heputtheminhispocket.

           ‘Mycourse,’saidClennam,brushingawaysometearsthathadbeensilentlydroppingdownhisface,‘mustbetakenatonce.WhatwretchedamendsIcanmakemustbemade.Imustclearmyunfortunatepartner’sreputation.Imustretainnothingformyself.ImustresigntoourcreditorsthepowerofmanagementIhavesomuchabused,andImustworkoutasmuchofmyfault—orcrime—asissusceptibleofbeingworkedoutintherestofmydays.’

           ‘Isitimpossible,sir,totideoverthepresent?’

           ‘Outofthequestion.Nothingcanbetidedovernow,Pancks.Thesoonerthebusinesscanpassoutofmyhands,thebetterforit.

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