Холодный дом

The Track

           Bucketmakesalegandcomesforward,passinghisfamiliardemonovertheregionofhismouth."AreyouwaitingtoseeSirLeicester?""No,myLady,I’veseenhim!""Haveyouanythingtosaytome?""Notjustatpresent,myLady.""Haveyoumadeanynewdiscoveries?""Afew,myLady."Thisismerelyinpassing.Shescarcelymakesastop,andsweepsupstairsalone.Mr.Bucket,movingtowardsthestaircase-foot,watchesherasshegoesupthestepstheoldmancamedowntohisgrave,pastmurderousgroupsofstatuaryrepeatedwiththeirshadowyweaponsonthewall,pasttheprintedbill,whichshelooksatgoingby,outofview."She’salovelywoman,too,shereallyis,"saysMr.Bucket,comingbacktoMercury."Don’tlookquitehealthythough."Isnotquitehealthy,Mercuryinformshim.Suffersmuchfromheadaches.Really?That’sapity!Walking,Mr.Bucketwouldrecommendforthat.Well,shetrieswalking,Mercuryrejoins.Walkssometimesfortwohourswhenshehasthembad.Bynight,too."Areyousureyou’requitesomuchassixfootthree?"asksMr.Bucket."Beggingyourpardonforinterruptingyouamoment?"Notadoubtaboutit."You’resowellputtogetherthatIshouldn’thavethoughtit.Butthehouseholdtroops,thoughconsideredfinemen,arebuiltsostraggling.Walksbynight,doesshe?Whenit’smoonlight,though?"Oh,yes.Whenit’smoonlight!Ofcourse.Oh,ofcourse!Conversationalandacquiescentonbothsides."Isupposeyouain’tinthehabitofwalkingyourself?"saysMr.Bucket."Notmuchtimeforit,Ishouldsay?"Besideswhich,Mercurydon’tlikeit

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