Лорд Джим

Chapter 6

           Hemumbledsomethingaboutmynaturaldisappointment—IhadbetterknowatoncethathischiefofficergotthepromotiontothePelion—hehadnothingtodowithit,ofcourse—supposedtheofficeknewbest—sorry....SaysI,‘Don’tyoumindoldJones,sir;dam’hissoul,he’susedtoit.’IcouldseedirectlyIhadshockedhisdelicateear,andwhilewesatatourfirsttiffintogetherhebegantofindfaultinanastymannerwiththisandthatintheship.IneverheardsuchavoiceoutofaPunchandJudyshow.Isetmyteethhard,andgluedmyeyestomyplate,andheldmypeaceaslongasIcould;butatlastIhadtosaysomething.Uphejumpstiptoeing,rufflingallhisprettyplumes,likealittlefighting-cock.‘You’llfindyouhaveadifferentpersontodealwiththanthelateCaptainBrierly.’‘I’vefoundit,’saysI,veryglum,butpretendingtobemightybusywithmysteak.‘Youareanoldruffian,Mister—aw—Jones;andwhat’smore,youareknownforanoldruffianintheemploy,’hesqueaksatme.Thedamnedbottle-washersstoodaboutlisteningwiththeirmouthsstretchedfromeartoear.‘Imaybeahardcase,’answersI,‘butIain’tsofargoneastoputupwiththesightofyousittinginCaptainBrierly’schair.’WiththatIlaydownmyknifeandfork.‘Youwouldliketositinityourself—that’swheretheshoepinches,’hesneers.Ileftthesaloon,gotmyragstogether,andwasonthequaywithallmydunnageaboutmyfeetbeforethestevedoreshadturnedtoagain.Yes.

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