Тяжкі часи

Mr. Bounderby

           

           ‘Whether,’saidGradgrind,ponderingwithhishandsinhispockets,andhiscavernouseyesonthefire,‘whetheranyinstructororservantcanhavesuggestedanything?WhetherLouisaorThomascanhavebeenreadinganything?Whether,inspiteofallprecautions,anyidlestory-bookcanhavegotintothehouse?Because,inmindsthathavebeenpracticallyformedbyruleandline,fromthecradleupwards,thisissocurious,soincomprehensible.’

           ‘Stopabit!’criedBounderby,whoallthistimehadbeenstanding,asbefore,onthehearth,burstingattheveryfurnitureoftheroomwithexplosivehumility.‘Youhaveoneofthosestrollers’childrenintheschool.’

           ‘CeciliaJupe,byname,’saidMr.Gradgrind,withsomethingofastrickenlookathisfriend.

           ‘Now,stopabit!’criedBounderbyagain.‘Howdidshecomethere?’

           ‘Why,thefactis,Isawthegirlmyself,forthefirsttime,onlyjustnow.Shespeciallyappliedhereatthehousetobeadmitted,asnotregularlybelongingtoourtown,andyes,youareright,Bounderby,youareright.’

           ‘Now,stopabit!’criedBounderby,oncemore.‘Louisasawherwhenshecame?’

           ‘Louisacertainlydidseeher,forshementionedtheapplicationtome.ButLouisasawher,Ihavenodoubt,inMrs.Gradgrind’spresence.’

           ‘Pray,Mrs.Gradgrind,’saidBounderby,‘whatpassed?’

           ‘Oh,mypoorhealth!’returnedMrs.Gradgrind.‘Thegirlwantedtocometotheschool,andMr.

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