Холодный дом

A Progress

           Everythingwassostrangethestrangerfromitsbeingnightintheday-time,thecandlesburningwithawhiteflame,andlookingrawandcoldthatIreadthewordsinthenewspaperwithoutknowingwhattheymeantandfoundmyselfreadingthesamewordsrepeatedly.Asitwasofnousegoingoninthatway,Iputthepaperdown,tookapeepatmybonnetintheglasstoseeifitwasneat,andlookedattheroom,whichwasnothalflighted,andattheshabby,dustytables,andatthepilesofwritings,andatabookcasefullofthemostinexpressive-lookingbooksthateverhadanythingtosayforthemselves.ThenIwenton,thinking,thinking,thinking;andthefirewenton,burning,burning,burning;andthecandleswentonflickeringandguttering,andtherewerenosnuffersuntiltheyounggentlemanbyandbybroughtaverydirtypairfortwohours.AtlastMr.Kengecame.HEwasnotaltered,buthewassurprisedtoseehowalteredIwasandappearedquitepleased."AsyouaregoingtobethecompanionoftheyoungladywhoisnowintheChancellor’sprivateroom,MissSummerson,"hesaid,"wethoughtitwellthatyoushouldbeinattendancealso.YouwillnotbediscomposedbytheLordChancellor,Idaresay?""No,sir,"Isaid,"Idon’tthinkIshall,"reallynotseeingonconsiderationwhyIshouldbe.SoMr.Kengegavemehisarmandwewentroundthecorner,underacolonnade,andinatasidedoor.Andsowecame,alongapassage,intoacomfortablesortofroomwhereayoungladyandayounggentlemanwerestandingnearagreat,loud-roaringfire.

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Roboto Lora
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