Готель з привидами
Chapter VI
’
’Canyoutellmewhy?’
’No,sir.It’safeelingIhave.Ican’ttellwhy.’
’Oh,afeeling?’Mr.Troyrepeated,inatoneofcompassionatecontempt.’Whenitcomestofeelings,mygoodsoul—!’Heleftthesentenceunfinished,androsetotakehisleaveofMr.Westwick.Thetruthis,hebegantofeelpuzzledhimself,andhedidnotchoosetoletMrs.Ferrariseeit.’Accepttheexpressionofmysympathy,sir,’hesaidtoMr.Westwickpolitely.’Iwishyougoodevening.’
HenryturnedtoMrs.Ferrariasthelawyerclosedthedoor.’Ihaveheardofyourtrouble,Emily,fromMissLockwood.IsthereanythingIcandotohelpyou?’
’Nothing,sir,thankyou.Perhaps,Ihadbettergohomeafterwhathashappened?Iwillcallto-morrow,andseeifIcanbeofanyusetoMissAgnes.Iamverysorryforher.’Shestoleaway,withherformalcurtsey,hernoiselessstep,andherobstinateresolutiontotakethegloomiestviewofherhusband’scase.
HenryWestwicklookedroundhiminthesolitudeofthelittledrawing-room.Therewasnothingtokeephiminthehouse,andyethelingeredinit.ItwassomethingtobeevennearAgnes—toseethethingsbelongingtoherthatwerescatteredabouttheroom.There,inthecorner,washerchair,withherembroideryonthework-tablebyitsside.Onthelittleeaselnearthewindowwasherlastdrawing,notquitefinishedyet.Thebookshehadbeenreadinglayonthesofa,withhertinypencil-caseinittomarktheplaceatwhichshehadleftoff
