Холодный дом

Esther’s Narrative

           Skimpolehimselfreclineduponthesofainadressing-gown,drinkingsomefragrantcoffeefromanoldchinacupitwasthenaboutmid-dayandlookingatacollectionofwallflowersinthebalcony.Hewasnotintheleastdisconcertedbyourappearance,butroseandreceivedusinhisusualairymanner."HereIam,yousee!"hesaidwhenwewereseated,notwithoutsomelittledifficulty,thegreaterpartofthechairsbeingbroken."HereIam!Thisismyfrugalbreakfast.Somemenwantlegsofbeefandmuttonforbreakfast;Idon’t.Givememypeach,mycupofcoffee,andmyclaret;Iamcontent.Idon’twantthemforthemselves,buttheyremindmeofthesun.There’snothingsolaraboutlegsofbeefandmutton.Mereanimalsatisfaction!""Thisisourfriend’sconsulting-room(orwouldbe,ifheeverprescribed),hissanctum,hisstudio,"saidmyguardiantous."Yes,"saidMr.Skimpole,turninghisbrightfaceabout,"thisisthebird’scage.Thisiswherethebirdlivesandsings.Theypluckhisfeathersnowandthenandcliphiswings,buthesings,hesings!"Hehandedusthegrapes,repeatinginhisradiantway,"Hesings!Notanambitiousnote,butstillhesings.""Theseareveryfine,"saidmyguardian."Apresent?""No,"heanswered."No!Someamiablegardenersellsthem.Hismanwantedtoknow,whenhebroughtthemlastevening,whetherheshouldwaitforthemoney.’Really,myfriend,’Isaid,’Ithinknotifyourtimeisofanyvaluetoyou.’Isupposeitwas,forhewentaway.

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