Тяжкі часи

Gunpowder

           

           Hetooktobitingtherosebudsnow,andtearingthemawayfromhisteethwithahandthattrembledlikeaninfirmoldman’s.Afteroneexceedinglyobservantlookathim,hiscompanionrelapsedintohislightestair.

           ‘Tom,youareinconsiderate:youexpecttoomuchofyoursister.Youhavehadmoneyofher,youdog,youknowyouhave.’

           ‘Well,Mr.Harthouse,IknowIhave.HowelsewasItogetit?Here’soldBounderbyalwaysboastingthatatmyagehelivedupontwopenceamonth,orsomethingofthatsort.Here’smyfatherdrawingwhathecallsaline,andtyingmedowntoitfromababy,neckandheels.Here’smymotherwhoneverhasanythingofherown,excepthercomplaints.Whatisafellowtodoformoney,andwhereamItolookforit,ifnottomysister?’

           Hewasalmostcrying,andscatteredthebudsaboutbydozens.Mr.Harthousetookhimpersuasivelybythecoat.

           ‘But,mydearTom,ifyoursisterhasnotgotit

           ‘Notgotit,Mr.Harthouse?Idon’tsayshehasgotit.Imayhavewantedmorethanshewaslikelytohavegot.Butthensheoughttogetit.Shecouldgetit.It’sofnousepretendingtomakeasecretofmattersnow,afterwhatIhavetoldyoualready;youknowshedidn’tmarryoldBounderbyforherownsake,orforhissake,butformysake.Thenwhydoesn’tshegetwhatIwant,outofhim,formysake?Sheisnotobligedtosaywhatsheisgoingtodowithit;sheissharpenough;shecouldmanagetocoaxitoutofhim,ifshechose.Thenwhydoesn’tshechoose,whenItellherofwhatconsequenceitis?Butno.

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