Випадок Чарльза Декстера Варда

           Hereandtothesouthwardtheneighborhoodbecamebetter,floweringatlastintoamarvelousgroupofearlymansions;butstillthelittleancientlanesledoffdowntheprecipicetothewest,spectralintheirmany-gabledarchaismanddippingtoariotofiridescentdecaywherethewickedoldwater-frontrecallsitsproudEastIndiadaysamidstpolyglotviceandsqualor,rottingwharves,andblear-eyedship-chandleries,withsuchsurvivingalleynamesasPacket,Bullion,Gold,Silver,Coin,Doubloon,Sovereign,Guilder,Dollar,Dime,andCent.

           Sometimes,ashegrewtallerandmoreadventurous,youngWardwouldventuredownintothismaelstromoftotteringhouses,brokentransoms,tumblingsteps,twistedbalustrades,swarthyfaces,andnamelessodors;windingfromSouthMaintoSouthWater,searchingoutthedockswherethebayandsoundsteamersstilltouched,andreturningnorthwardatthislowerlevelpastthesteep-roofed1816warehousesandthebroadsquareattheGreatBridge,wherethe1773MarketHousestillstandsfirmonitsancientarches.Inthatsquarehewouldpausetodrinkinthebewilderingbeautyoftheoldtownasitrisesonitseastwardbluff,deckedwithitstwoGeorgianspiresandcrownedbythevastnewChristianSciencedomeasLondoniscrownedbySt.Paul’s.Helikemostlytoreachthispointinthelateafternoon,whentheslantingsunlighttouchestheMarketHouseandtheancienthillroofsandbelfrieswithgold,andthrowsmagicaroundthedreamingwharveswhereProvidenceIndiamenusedtorideatanchor.