Холодный дом

Mr. Bucket

           That’saboutyourintentions,ifIunderstandyou?""Youareright,sir.Youareright,"saysMr.Snagsby."Thenhere’syourhat,"returnshisnewfriend,quiteasintimatewithitasifhehadmadeit;"andifyou’reready,Iam."TheyleaveMr.Tulkinghorn,withoutaruffleonthesurfaceofhisunfathomabledepths,drinkinghisoldwine,andgodownintothestreets."Youdon’thappentoknowaverygoodsortofpersonofthenameofGridley,doyou?"saysBucketinfriendlyconverseastheydescendthestairs."No,"saysMr.Snagsby,considering,"Idon’tknowanybodyofthatname.Why?""Nothingparticular,"saysBucket;"onlyhavingallowedhistempertogetalittlethebetterofhimandhavingbeenthreateningsomerespectablepeople,heiskeepingoutofthewayofawarrantIhavegotagainsthimwhichit’sapitythatamanofsenseshoulddo."Astheywalkalong,Mr.Snagsbyobserves,asanovelty,thathoweverquicktheirpacemaybe,hiscompanionstillseemsinsomeundefinablemannertolurkandlounge;also,thatwheneverheisgoingtoturntotherightorleft,hepretendstohaveafixedpurposeinhismindofgoingstraightahead,andwheelsoff,sharply,attheverylastmoment.Nowandthen,whentheypassapolice-constableonhisbeat,Mr.Snagsbynoticesthatboththeconstableandhisguidefallintoadeepabstractionastheycometowardseachother,andappearentirelytooverlookeachother,andtogazeintospace.Inafewinstances,Mr.

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