Холодный дом

The Track

           "Whattwowords?Heturnsthekeyinthedoor,ungirdleshisblackpocket-book(bookoffatetomany),laysanotherletterbyit,andreads,boldlywrittenineach,"LadyDedlock.""Yes,yes,"saysMr.Bucket."ButIcouldhavemadethemoneywithoutthisanonymousinformation."Havingputthelettersinhisbookoffateandgirdleditupagain,heunlocksthedoorjustintimetoadmithisdinner,whichisbroughtuponagoodlytraywithadecanterofsherry.Mr.Bucketfrequentlyobserves,infriendlycircleswherethereisnorestraint,thathelikesatoothfulofyourfineoldbrownEastIndersherrybetterthananythingyoucanofferhim.Consequentlyhefillsandemptieshisglasswithasmackofhislipsandisproceedingwithhisrefreshmentwhenanideaentershismind.Mr.Bucketsoftlyopensthedoorofcommunicationbetweenthatroomandthenextandlooksin.Thelibraryisdeserted,andthefireissinkinglow.Mr.Bucket’seye,aftertakingapigeon-flightroundtheroom,alightsuponatablewherelettersareusuallyputastheyarrive.SeverallettersforSirLeicesterareuponit.Mr.Bucketdrawsnearandexaminesthedirections."No,"hesays,"there’snoneinthathand.It’sonlymeasiswrittento.IcanbreakittoSirLeicesterDedlock,Baronet,to-morrow."Withthathereturnstofinishhisdinnerwithagoodappetite,andafteralightnap,issummonedintothedrawing-room.SirLeicesterhasreceivedhimtheretheseseveraleveningspasttoknowwhetherhehasanythingtoreport.Thedebilitatedcousin(muchexhaustedbythefuneral)andVolumniaareinattendance.Mr.

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