Холодный дом

A Progress

           Therewasagentlemaninthecoachwhosatontheoppositeseatandlookedverylargeinaquantityofwrappings,buthesatgazingoutoftheotherwindowandtooknonoticeofme.Ithoughtofmydeadgodmother,ofthenightwhenIreadtoher,ofherfrowningsofixedlyandsternlyinherbed,ofthestrangeplaceIwasgoingto,ofthepeopleIshouldfindthere,andwhattheywouldbelike,andwhattheywouldsaytome,whenavoiceinthecoachgavemeaterriblestart.Itsaid,"Whatthede-vilareyoucryingfor?"IwassofrightenedthatIlostmyvoiceandcouldonlyanswerinawhisper,"Me,sir?"ForofcourseIknewitmusthavebeenthegentlemaninthequantityofwrappings,thoughhewasstilllookingoutofhiswindow."Yes,you,"hesaid,turninground."Ididn’tknowIwascrying,sir,"Ifaltered."Butyouare!"saidthegentleman."Lookhere!"Hecamequiteoppositetomefromtheothercornerofthecoach,brushedoneofhislargefurrycuffsacrossmyeyes(butwithouthurtingme),andshowedmethatitwaswet."There!Nowyouknowyouare,"hesaid."Don’tyou?""Yes,sir,"Isaid."Andwhatareyoucryingfor?"saidthegentleman,"Don’tyouwanttogothere?""Where,sir?""Where?Why,whereveryouaregoing,"saidthegentleman."Iamverygladtogothere,sir,"Ianswered."Well,then!Lookglad!"saidthegentleman.

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Roboto Lora
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