Ярмарка тщеславия

In Which We Meet an Old Acquaintance

           Shemadealittlemovementtomakeroomforhimbyherside,andjusttooktheskirtofhergownfromavacantchairthere.

           "Comeandgivemegoodluck,"shesaid,stillinaforeignaccent,quitedifferentfromthatfrankandperfectlyEnglish"Thankyou,"withwhichshehadsalutedGeorgy’scoupinherfavour.Theportlygentleman,lookingroundtoseethatnobodyofrankobservedhim,satdown;hemuttered—"Ah,really,wellnow,Godblessmysoul.I’mveryfortunate;I’msuretogiveyougoodfortune,"andotherwordsofcomplimentandconfusion."Doyouplaymuch?"theforeignmasksaid.

           "IputaNaportwodown,"saidJoswithasuperbair,flingingdownagoldpiece.

           "Yes;aynapafterdinner,"saidthemaskarchly.ButJoslookingfrightened,shecontinued,inherprettyFrenchaccent,"Youdonotplaytowin.NomoredoI.Iplaytoforget,butIcannot.Icannotforgetoldtimes,monsieur.Yourlittlenephewistheimageofhisfather;andyouyouarenotchangedbutyes,youare.Everybodychanges,everybodyforgets;nobodyhasanyheart."

           "GoodGod,whoisit?"askedJosinaflutter.

           "Can’tyouguess,JosephSedley?"saidthelittlewomaninasadvoice,andundoinghermask,shelookedathim."Youhaveforgottenme."

           "Goodheavens!Mrs.Crawley!"gaspedoutJos.

           "Rebecca,"saidtheother,puttingherhandonhis;butshefollowedthegamestill,allthetimeshewaslookingathim

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