Фінансист

Chapter XLIX

           

           Youwouldnothavethought,seeingCowperwoodmountthefrontstepsofhishandsomeresidenceinhisneatgraysuitandwell-cutovercoatonhisreturnfromhisofficethatevening,thathewasthinkingthatthismightbehislastnighthere.Hisairandwalkindicatednoweakeningofspirit.Heenteredthehall,whereanearlylampwasaglow,andencountered"Wash"Sims,anoldnegrofactotum,whowasjustcomingupfromthebasement,carryingabucketofcoalforoneofthefireplaces.

           "Mahtycoldout,disevenin’,MistahCoppahwood,"saidWash,towhomanythinglessthansixtydegreeswasverycold.HisoneregretwasthatPhiladelphiawasnotlocatedinNorthCarolina,fromwhencehecame.

           "’Tissharp,Wash,"repliedCowperwood,absentmindedly.Hewasthinkingforthemomentofthehouseandhowithadlooked,ashecametowarditwestalongGirardAvenuewhattheneighborswerethinkingofhim,too,observinghimfromtimetotimeoutoftheirwindows.Itwasclearandcold.Thelampsinthereception-hallandsitting-roomhadbeenlit,forhehadpermittednoairoffunerealgloomtosettledownoverthisplacesincehistroubleshadbegun.Inthefarwestofthestreetalasttinglinggleamoflavenderandvioletwasshowingoverthecoldwhitesnowoftheroadway.Thehouseofgray-greenstone,withitslightedwindows,andcream-coloredlacecurtains,hadlookedespeciallyattractive.

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