Фінансист

Chapter XI

           Butler’shousewasnotnewhehadboughtandrepaireditbutitwasnotanunsatisfactoryspecimenofthearchitectureofthetime.Itwasfiftyfeetwide,fourstoriestall,ofgraystoneandwithfourwide,whitestonestepsleadinguptothedoor.Thewindowarches,framedinwhite,hadU-shapedkeystones.Therewerecurtainsoflaceandaglimpseofredplushthroughthewindows,whichgleamedwarmagainstthecoldandsnowoutside.AtrimIrishmaidcametothedoorandhegaveherhiscardandwasinvitedintothehouse.

           "IsMr.Butlerhome?"

           "I’mnotsure,sir.I’llfindout.Hemayhavegoneout."

           Inalittlewhilehewasaskedtocomeupstairs,wherehefoundButlerinasomewhatcommercial-lookingroom.Ithadadesk,anofficechair,someleatherfurnishings,andabookcase,butnocompletenessorsymmetryaseitheranofficeoralivingroom.Therewereseveralpicturesonthewallanimpossibleoilpainting,foronething,darkandgloomy;acanalandbargesceneinpinkandnilegreenforanother;somedaguerreotypesofrelativesandfriendswhichwerenothalfbad.Cowperwoodnoticedoneoftwogirls,onewithreddish-goldhair,anotherwithwhatappearedtobesilkybrown.Thebeautifulsilvereffectofthedaguerreotypehadbeentinted.Theywereprettygirls,healthy,smiling,Celtic,theirheadsclosetogether,theireyeslookingstraightoutatyou.Headmiredthemcasually,andfanciedtheymustbeButler’sdaughters.

           "Mr.

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