Лорд Джим

Chapter 37

           AndsoIdidmakeanendofhimafterall....”Hechokedagain....“Iexpectthisthing’llkillme,butIshalldieeasynow.You...youhere...Idon’tknowyourname—Iwouldgiveyouafive-poundnoteif—ifIhadit—forthenews—ormyname’snotBrown....”Hegrinnedhorribly....“GentlemanBrown.”

           ‘Hesaidallthesethingsinprofoundgasps,staringatmewithhisyelloweyesoutofalong,ravaged,brownface;hejerkedhisleftarm;apepper-and-saltmattedbeardhungalmostintohislap;adirtyraggedblanketcoveredhislegs.IhadfoundhimoutinBankokthroughthatbusybodySchomberg,thehotel-keeper,whohad,confidentially,directedmewheretolook.Itappearsthatasortofloafing,fuddledvagabond—awhitemanlivingamongstthenativeswithaSiamesewoman—hadconsidereditagreatprivilegetogiveasheltertothelastdaysofthefamousGentlemanBrown.Whilehewastalkingtomeinthewretchedhovel,and,asitwere,fightingforeveryminuteofhislife,theSiamesewoman,withbigbarelegsandastupidcoarseface,satinadarkcornerchewingbetelstolidly.Nowandthenshewouldgetupforthepurposeofshooingachickenawayfromthedoor.Thewholehutshookwhenshewalked.Anuglyyellowchild,nakedandpot-belliedlikealittleheathengod,stoodatthefootofthecouch,fingerinmouth,lostinaprofoundandcalmcontemplationofthedyingman.

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