Крошка Доррит

Chapter 18. A Castle in the Air

           Itwasachequeforonehundredpounds.Hefoldeditup,putitinYoungJohn’shand,andpressedthehandinhis.

           ‘Ihopeyou’ll—ha—overlook—hum—whathaspassed,John.’

           ‘Don’tspeakofit,sir,onanyaccounts.Idon’tinanywaysbearmalice,I’msure.’

           ButnothingwhileJohnwastherecouldchangeJohn’sfacetoitsnaturalcolourandexpression,orrestoreJohn’snaturalmanner.

           ‘And,John,’saidMrDorrit,givinghishandafinalpressure,andreleasingit,‘Ihopewe—ha—agreethatwehavespokentogetherinconfidence;andthatyouwillabstain,ingoingout,fromsayinganythingtoanyonethatmight—hum—suggestthat—ha—onceI—’

           ‘Oh!Iassureyou,sir,’returnedJohnChivery,‘inmypoorhumbleway,sir,I’mtooproudandhonourabletodoit,sir.’

           MrDorritwasnottooproudandhonourabletolistenatthedoorthathemightascertainforhimselfwhetherJohnreallywentstraightout,orlingeredtohaveanytalkwithanyone.Therewasnodoubtthathewentdirectoutatthedoor,andawaydownthestreetwithaquickstep.Afterremainingaloneforanhour,MrDorritrangfortheCourier,whofoundhimwithhischaironthehearth-rug,sittingwithhisbacktowardshimandhisfacetothefire.‘Youcantakethatbundleofcigarstosmokeonthejourney,ifyoulike,’saidMrDorrit,withacarelesswaveofhishand.‘Ha—broughtby—hum—littleofferingfrom—ha—sonofoldtenantofmine.

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