Холодный дом

Moving On

           Oletusbejoyful,joyful!Oletusbejoyful!"GreatsensationonthepartofMrs.Snagsby."Myfriends,"saysChadband,lookingroundhiminconclusion,"Iwillnotproceedwithmyyoungfriendnow.Willyoucometo-morrow,myyoungfriend,andinquireofthisgoodladywhereIamtobefoundtodeliveradiscourseuntoyou,andwillyoucomelikethethirstyswallowuponthenextday,anduponthedayafterthat,anduponthedayafterthat,anduponmanypleasantdays,toheardiscourses?"(Thiswithacow-likelightness.)Jo,whoseimmediateobjectseemstobetogetawayonanyterms,givesashufflingnod.Mr.Guppythenthrowshimapenny,andMrs.SnagsbycallstoGustertoseehimsafelyoutofthehouse.Butbeforehegoesdownstairs,Mr.Snagsbyloadshimwithsomebrokenmeatsfromthetable,whichhecarriesaway,hugginginhisarms.So,Mr.Chadbandofwhomthepersecutorssaythatitisnowonderheshouldgoonforanylengthoftimeutteringsuchabominablenonsense,butthatthewonderratheristhatheshouldeverleaveoff,havingoncetheaudacitytobeginretiresintoprivatelifeuntilheinvestsalittlecapitalofsupperintheoil-trade.Jomoveson,throughthelongvacation,downtoBlackfriarsBridge,wherehefindsabakingstonycornerwhereintosettletohisrepast.Andtherehesits,munchingandgnawing,andlookingupatthegreatcrossonthesummitofSt.Paul’sCathedral,glitteringaboveared-and-violet-tintedcloudofsmoke

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