Крошка Доррит

Chapter 11. Let Loose

           

           Theguestlookedcontemptuouslyatthecleancoarsebeddingpreparedforhim,and,sittingdownontherushchairatthebedside,drewhismoneyoutofhispocket,andtolditoverinhishand.‘Onemusteat,’hemutteredtohimself,‘butbyHeavenImusteatatthecostofsomeothermanto-morrow!’

           Ashesatpondering,andmechanicallyweighinghismoneyinhispalm,thedeepbreathingofthetravellerintheotherbedfellsoregularlyuponhishearingthatitattractedhiseyesinthatdirection.Themanwascoveredupwarm,andhaddrawnthewhitecurtainathishead,sothathecouldbeonlyheard,notseen.Butthedeepregularbreathing,stillgoingonwhiletheotherwastakingoffhiswornshoesandgaiters,andstillcontinuingwhenhehadlaidasidehiscoatandcravat,becameatlengthastrongprovocativetocuriosity,andincentivetogetaglimpseofthesleeper’sface.

           Thewakingtraveller,therefore,stolealittlenearer,andyetalittlenearer,andalittlenearertothesleepingtraveller’sbed,untilhestoodclosebesideit.Eventhenhecouldnotseehisface,forhehaddrawnthesheetoverit.Theregularbreathingstillcontinuing,heputhissmoothwhitehand(suchatreacheroushanditlooked,asitwentcreepingfromhim!)tothesheet,andgentlylifteditaway.

           ‘Deathofmysoul!’hewhispered,fallingback,‘here’sCavalletto!’

           ThelittleItalian,previouslyinfluencedinhissleep,perhaps,bythestealthypresenceathisbedside,stoppedinhisregularbreathing,andwithalongdeeprespirationopenedhiseyes.Atfirsttheywerenotawake,thoughopen.

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