Крошка Доррит

Chapter 1. Sun and Shadow

           Thehandwithwhichheheldthegrating(seamedalloverthebackwithuglyscratchesnewlyhealed),wasunusuallysmallandplump;wouldhavebeenunusuallywhitebutfortheprisongrime.

           Theothermanwaslyingonthestonefloor,coveredwithacoarsebrowncoat.

           ‘Getup,pig!’growledthefirst.‘Don’tsleepwhenIamhungry.’

           ‘It’sallone,master,’saidthepig,inasubmissivemanner,andnotwithoutcheerfulness;‘IcanwakewhenIwill,IcansleepwhenIwill.It’sallthesame.’

           Ashesaidit,herose,shookhimself,scratchedhimself,tiedhisbrowncoatlooselyroundhisneckbythesleeves(hehadpreviouslyuseditasacoverlet),andsatdownuponthepavementyawning,withhisbackagainstthewalloppositetothegrating.

           ‘Saywhatthehouris,’grumbledthefirstman.

           ‘Themid-daybellswillring—infortyminutes.’Whenhemadethelittlepause,hehadlookedroundtheprison-room,asifforcertaininformation.

           ‘Youareaclock.Howisitthatyoualwaysknow?’

           ‘HowcanIsay?Ialwaysknowwhatthehouris,andwhereIam.Iwasbroughtinhereatnight,andoutofaboat,butIknowwhereIam.Seehere!Marseillesharbour;’onhiskneesonthepavement,mappingitalloutwithaswarthyforefinger;‘Toulon(wherethegalleysare),Spainoverthere,Algiersoverthere.Creepingawaytothelefthere,Nice.RoundbytheCornicetoGenoa.GenoaMoleandHarbour.QuarantineGround.Citythere;terracegardensblushingwiththebelladonna.Here,PortoFino.StandoutforLeghorn.

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