Ярмарка тщеславия

The Letter on the Pincushion

           Prepareyourself,dearfriend—she’sgoneoutforalongtime—she’s—she’sgonealtogether."

           "Graciousgoodness,andwho’stomakemychocolate?Sendforherandhaveherback;Idesirethatshecomeback,"theoldladysaid.

           "Shedecampedlastnight,Ma’am,"criedMrs.Bute.

           "Sheleftaletterforme,"Briggsexclaimed."She’smarriedto—"

           "Prepareher,forheaven’ssake.Don’ttortureher,mydearMissBriggs."

           "She’smarriedtowhom?"criesthespinsterinanervousfury.

           "To—toarelationof—"

           "SherefusedSirPitt,"criedthevictim."Speakatonce.Don’tdrivememad."

           "OMa’am—prepareher,MissBriggs—she’smarriedtoRawdonCrawley."

           "RawdonmarriedRebecca—governess—nobod—Getoutofmyhouse,youfool,youidiot—youstupidoldBriggs—howdareyou?You’reintheplot—youmadehimmarry,thinkingthatI’dleavemymoneyfromhim—youdid,Martha,"thepooroldladyscreamedinhystericsentences.

           "I,Ma’am,askamemberofthisfamilytomarryadrawing-master’sdaughter?"

           "HermotherwasaMontmorency,"criedouttheoldlady,pullingatthebellwithallhermight.

           "Hermotherwasanoperagirl,andshehasbeenonthestageorworseherself,"saidMrs.Bute.

           MissCrawleygaveafinalscream,andfellbackinafaint.

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