Холодный дом

The Smallweed Family

           Iwouldn’ttrusthim.Hewillhavehisbond,mydearfriend.""Devildoubthim,"saysMr.George.Charleyappearingwithatray,onwhicharethepipe,asmallpaperoftobacco,andthebrandy-and-water,heasksher,"Howdoyoucomehere!Youhaven’tgotthefamilyface.""Igoesouttowork,sir,"returnsCharley.Thetrooper(iftrooperhebeorhavebeen)takesherbonnetoff,withalighttouchforsostrongahand,andpatsheronthehead."Yougivethehousealmostawholesomelook.Itwantsabitofyouthasmuchasitwantsfreshair."Thenhedismissesher,lightshispipe,anddrinkstoMr.Smallweed’sfriendinthecity—theonesolitaryflightofthatesteemedoldgentleman’simagination."Soyouthinkhemightbeharduponme,eh?""Ithinkhemight—Iamafraidhewould.Ihaveknownhimdoit,"saysGrandfatherSmallweedincautiously,"twentytimes."Incautiously,becausehisstrickenbetter-half,whohasbeendozingoverthefireforsometime,isinstantlyarousedandjabbers"Twentythousandpounds,twentytwenty-poundnotesinamoney-box,twentyguineas,twentymilliontwentypercent,twenty—"andisthencutshortbytheflyingcushion,whichthevisitor,towhomthissingularexperimentappearstobeanovelty,snatchesfromherfaceasitcrushesherintheusualmanner."You’reabrimstoneidiot.You’reascorpion—abrimstonescorpion!You’reaswelteringtoad.You’reachatteringclatteringbroomstickwitchthatoughttobeburnt!"gaspstheoldman,prostrateinhischair."Mydearfriend,willyoushakemeupalittle?"Mr.

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