Холодный дом

On the Watch

           Tulkinghorndoessowithdeferenceandholdsitopenwhileshepassesout.Shepassesclosetohim,withherusualfatiguedmannerandinsolentgrace.Theymeetagainatdinner—again,nextday—again,formanydaysinsuccession.LadyDedlockisalwaysthesameexhausteddeity,surroundedbyworshippers,andterriblyliabletobeboredtodeath,evenwhilepresidingatherownshrine.Mr.Tulkinghornisalwaysthesamespeechlessrepositoryofnobleconfidences,sooddlyoutofplaceandyetsoperfectlyathome.Theyappeartotakeaslittlenoteofoneanotherasanytwopeopleenclosedwithinthesamewallscould.Butwhethereachevermorewatchesandsuspectstheother,evermoremistrustfulofsomegreatreservation;whethereachisevermorepreparedatallpointsfortheother,andnevertobetakenunawares;whateachwouldgivetoknowhowmuchtheotherknows—allthisishidden,forthetime,intheirownhearts.

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Roboto Lora
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