Холодный дом

Esther’s Narrative

           Turveydrop’spraisesthatIwouldnothavesaidawordinhisdisparagementforanyconsideration.ThehouseinThaviesInnhadbillsinthewindowsannouncingthatitwastolet,anditlookeddirtierandgloomierandghastlierthanever.ThenameofpoorMr.Jellybyhadappearedinthelistofbankruptsbutadayortwobefore,andhewasshutupinthedining-roomwithtwogentlemenandaheapofbluebags,account-books,andpapers,makingthemostdesperateendeavourstounderstandhisaffairs.Theyappearedtometobequitebeyondhiscomprehension,forwhenCaddytookmeintothedining-roombymistakeandwecameuponMr.Jellybyinhisspectacles,forlornlyfencedintoacornerbythegreatdining-tableandthetwogentlemen,heseemedtohavegivenupthewholethingandtobespeechlessandinsensible.GoingupstairstoMrs.Jellyby’sroom(thechildrenwereallscreaminginthekitchen,andtherewasnoservanttobeseen),wefoundthatladyinthemidstofavoluminouscorrespondence,opening,reading,andsortingletters,withagreataccumulationoftorncoversonthefloor.Shewassopreoccupiedthatatfirstshedidnotknowme,thoughshesatlookingatmewiththatcurious,bright-eyed,far-offlookofhers."Ah!MissSummerson!"shesaidatlast."Iwasthinkingofsomethingsodifferent!Ihopeyouarewell.Iamhappytoseeyou.Mr.JarndyceandMissClarequitewell?"IhopedinreturnthatMr.Jellybywasquitewell."Why,notquite,mydear,"saidMrs.Jellybyinthecalmestmanner."Hehasbeenunfortunateinhisaffairsandisalittleoutofspirits.

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