Холодный дом

The Smallweed Family

           SmallweedperpetuallytwitchingherheadandchatteringatthetrivetsandMr.Smallweedrequiringtoberepeatedlyshakenuplikealargeblackdraught."Yes,yes,"saysthegoodoldgentleman,revertingtohislessonofwisdom."That’ssuchadviceasyourfatherwouldhavegivenyou,Bart.Youneversawyourfather.More’sthepity.Hewasmytrueson."Whetheritisintendedtobeconveyedthathewasparticularlypleasanttolookat,onthataccount,doesnotappear."Hewasmytrueson,"repeatstheoldgentleman,foldinghisbreadandbutteronhisknee,"agoodaccountant,anddiedfifteenyearsago."Mrs.Smallweed,followingherusualinstinct,breaksoutwith"Fifteenhundredpound.Fifteenhundredpoundinablackbox,fifteenhundredpoundlockedup,fifteenhundredpoundputawayandhid!"Herworthyhusband,settingasidehisbreadandbutter,immediatelydischargesthecushionather,crushesheragainstthesideofherchair,andfallsbackinhisown,overpowered.Hisappearance,aftervisitingMrs.Smallweedwithoneoftheseadmonitions,isparticularlyimpressiveandnotwhollyprepossessing,firstlybecausetheexertiongenerallytwistshisblackskull-capoveroneeyeandgiveshimanairofgoblinrakishness,secondlybecausehemuttersviolentimprecationsagainstMrs.Smallweed,andthirdlybecausethecontrastbetweenthosepowerfulexpressionsandhispowerlessfigureissuggestiveofabalefuloldmalignantwhowouldbeverywickedifhecould.Allthis,however,issocommonintheSmallweedfamilycirclethatitproducesnoimpression.

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