Скорбота сатани

Chapter 7

           Iwassimplywearyofthesightofmyownadvertizedname.Icertainlydidlookforwardwithverygenuinefeelingandexpectationtothepublicationofmyworkwhenthatshouldbeanaccomplishedfactbutto-dayeventhatideahadlostsomeofitsattractivenessowingtothisnewandunpleasantimpressiononmymindthatthecontentsofthatbookwereasutterlythereverseofmyowntruethoughtsastheycouldwellbe.Afogbegantodarkendownoverthestreetsincompanywiththerainanddisgustedwiththeweatherandwithmyself,Iturnedawayfromthewindowandsettledintoanarm-chairbythefire,pokingthecoaltillitblazed,andwonderingwhatIshoulddotoridmymindofthegloomthatthreatenedtoenvelopitinasthickacanopyasthatoftheLondonfog.Atapcameatthedoor,andinanswertomysomewhatirritable"Comein!"Rimânezentered.

           "What,allinthedarkTempest!"heexclaimedcheerfully"Whydon’tyoulightup?"

           "Thefire’senough,"Iansweredcrossly"Enoughatanyratetothinkby."

           "Andhaveyoubeenthinking?"heinquiredlaughing"Don’tdoit.It’sabadhabit.Noonethinksnow-a-dayspeoplecan’tstandittheirheadsaretoofrail.Oncebegintothinkanddowngothefoundationsofsocietybesidesthinkingisalwaysdullwork."

           "Ihavefounditso,"Isaidgloomily"Lucio,thereissomethingwrongaboutmesomewhere."

           Hiseyesflashedkeen,half-amusedinquiryintomine.

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