Місяць і гріш

Chapter XX

           "Ifeltsureyou’dliketohavethelatestnewsofher."

           Hegaveashortlaugh.Hiseyestwinkled.

           "Wehadajollyeveningtogether,"hesaid."Howlongagoisit?"

           "Fiveyears."

           Hecalledforanotherabsinthe.Stroeve,withvolubletongue,explainedhowheandIhadmet,andbywhatanaccidentwediscoveredthatwebothknewStrickland.IdonotknowifStricklandlistened.Heglancedatmeonceortwicereflectively,butforthemostpartseemedoccupiedwithhisownthoughts;andcertainlywithoutStroeve’sbabbletheconversationwouldhavebeendifficult.InhalfanhourtheDutchman,lookingathiswatch,announcedthathemustgo.HeaskedwhetherIwouldcometoo.Ithought,alone,ImightgetsomethingoutofStrickland,andsoansweredthatIwouldstay.

           WhenthefatmanhadleftIsaid:

           "DirkStroevethinksyou’reagreatartist."

           "WhatthehelldoyousupposeIcare?"

           "Willyouletmeseeyourpictures?"

           "WhyshouldI?"

           "Imightfeelinclinedtobuyone."

           "Imightnotfeelinclinedtosellone."

           "Areyoumakingagoodliving?"Iasked,smiling.

           Hechuckled.

           "DoIlookit?"

           "Youlookhalfstarved."

           "Iamhalfstarved."

           "Thencomeandlet’shaveabitofdinner."

           "Whydoyouaskme?"

           "Notoutofcharity,"Iansweredcoolly."Idon’treallycareatwopennydamnifyoustarveornot."

           Hiseyeslitupagain.

           "Comeon,then,"hesaid,gettingup."I’dlikeadecentmeal."

           

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