Холодный дом

Esther’s Narrative

           Liz(theonlynamebywhichIknewher)rosetogivemeherownchair,butIsatdownonastoolnearthefire,andMr.Buckettookacornerofthebedstead.NowthatIhadtospeakandwasamongpeoplewithwhomIwasnotfamiliar,Ibecameconsciousofbeinghurriedandgiddy.Itwasverydifficulttobegin,andIcouldnothelpburstingintotears."Liz,"saidI,"Ihavecomealongwayinthenightandthroughthesnowtoinquireafteralady""Whohasbeenhere,youknow,"Mr.Bucketstruckin,addressingthewholegroupwithacomposedpropitiatoryface;"that’stheladytheyoungladymeans.Theladythatwasherelastnight,youknow.""AndwhotoldYOUastherewasanybodyhere?"inquiredJenny’shusband,whohadmadeasurlystopinhiseatingtolistenandnowmeasuredhimwithhiseye."ApersonofthenameofMichaelJackson,withabluewelveteenwaistcoatwithadoublerowofmotherofpearlbuttons,"Mr.Bucketimmediatelyanswered."Hehadasgoodmindhisownbusiness,whoeverheis,"growledtheman."He’soutofemployment,Ibelieve,"saidMr.BucketapologeticallyforMichaelJackson,"andsogetstalking."Thewomanhadnotresumedherchair,butstoodfalteringwithherhanduponitsbrokenback,lookingatme.Ithoughtshewouldhavespokentomeprivatelyifshehaddared.Shewasstillinthisattitudeofuncertaintywhenherhusband,whowaseatingwithalumpofbreadandfatinonehandandhisclasp-knifeintheother,struckthehandleofhisknifeviolentlyonthetableandtoldherwithanoathtomindHERownbusinessatanyrateandsitdown.

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