Холодный дом

Esther’s Narrative

           Thepossibilityofmybeingbroughtintocontactwithmymother,ofmybeingtakentoherhouse,evenofMr.Skimpole’s,howeverdistantlyassociatedwithme,receivingkindnessesandobligationsfromherhusband,wassopainfulthatIfeltIcouldnolongerguidemyselfwithouthisassistance.Whenwehadretiredforthenight,andAdaandIhadhadourusualtalkinourprettyroom,Iwentoutatmydooragainandsoughtmyguardianamonghisbooks.Iknewhealwaysreadatthathour,andasIdrewnearIsawthelightshiningoutintothepassagefromhisreading-lamp."MayIcomein,guardian?""Surely,littlewoman.What’sthematter?""Nothingisthematter.IthoughtIwouldliketotakethisquiettimeofsayingawordtoyouaboutmyself."Heputachairforme,shuthisbook,andputitby,andturnedhiskindattentivefacetowardsme.IcouldnothelpobservingthatitworethatcuriousexpressionIhadobservedinitoncebeforeonthatnightwhenhehadsaidthathewasinnotroublewhichIcouldreadilyunderstand."Whatconcernsyou,mydearEsther,"saidhe,"concernsusall.YoucannotbemorereadytospeakthanIamtohear.""Iknowthat,guardian.ButIhavesuchneedofyouradviceandsupport.Oh!Youdon’tknowhowmuchneedIhaveto-night."Helookedunpreparedformybeingsoearnest,andevenalittlealarmed."OrhowanxiousIhavebeentospeaktoyou,"saidI,"eversincethevisitorwashereto-day.""Thevisitor,mydear!SirLeicesterDedlock?""Yes."Hefoldedhisarmsandsatlookingatmewithanairoftheprofoundestastonishment,awaitingwhatIshouldsaynext.

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