Тяжкі часи

The Whelp

           

           ‘Perfectlydelightful.Andshegetsonsoplacidly.’

           ‘Oh,’returnedTom,withcontemptuouspatronage,‘she’saregulargirl.Agirlcangetonanywhere.Shehassettleddowntothelife,andshedon’tmind.Itdoesjustaswellasanother.Besides,thoughLooisagirl,she’snotacommonsortofgirl.Shecanshutherselfupwithinherself,andthinkasIhaveoftenknownhersitandwatchthefireforanhouratastretch.’

           ‘Ay,ay?Hasresourcesofherown,’saidHarthouse,smokingquietly.

           ‘Notsomuchofthatasyoumaysuppose,’returnedTom;‘forourgovernorhadhercrammedwithallsortsofdrybonesandsawdust.It’shissystem.’

           ‘Formedhisdaughteronhisownmodel?’suggestedHarthouse.

           ‘Hisdaughter?Ah!andeverybodyelse.Why,heformedMethatway!’saidTom.

           ‘Impossible!’

           ‘Hedid,though,’saidTom,shakinghishead.‘Imeantosay,Mr.Harthouse,thatwhenIfirstlefthomeandwenttooldBounderby’s,Iwasasflatasawarming-pan,andknewnomoreaboutlife,thananyoysterdoes.’

           ‘Come,Tom!Icanhardlybelievethat.Ajoke’sajoke.’

           ‘Uponmysoul!’saidthewhelp.‘Iamserious;Iamindeed!’Hesmokedwithgreatgravityanddignityforalittlewhile,andthenadded,inahighlycomplacenttone,‘Oh!Ihavepickedupalittlesince.Idon’tdenythat.ButIhavedoneitmyself;nothankstothegovernor.’

           ‘Andyourintelligentsister?’

           ‘Myintelligentsisterisaboutwhereshewas.

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