Маленький лорд Фаунтлерой
Chapter XII
“ShallIbeyourboy,evenifI’mnotgoingtobeanearl?”hesaid.“ShallIbeyourboy,justasIwasbefore?”Andhisflushedlittlefacewasallalightwitheagerness.
HowtheoldEarldidlookathimfromheadtofoot,tobesure!Howhisgreatshaggybrowsdiddrawthemselvestogether,andhowqueerlyhisdeepeyesshoneunderthem—howveryqueerly!
“Myboy!”hesaid—and,ifyou’llbelieveit,hisveryvoicewasqueer,almostshakyandalittlebrokenandhoarse,notatallwhatyouwouldexpectanEarl’svoicetobe,thoughhespokemoredecidedlyandperemptorilyeventhanbefore,—“Yes,you’llbemyboyaslongasIlive;and,byGeorge,sometimesIfeelasifyouweretheonlyboyIhadeverhad.”
Cedric’sfaceturnedredtotherootsofhishair;itturnedredwithreliefandpleasure.Heputbothhishandsdeepintohispocketsandlookedsquarelyintohisnoblerelative’seyes.
“Doyou?”hesaid.“Well,then,Idon’tcareabouttheearlpartatall.Idon’tcarewhetherI’manearlornot.Ithought—yousee,IthoughttheonethatwasgoingtobetheEarlwouldhavetobeyourboy,too,and—andIcouldn’tbe.Thatwaswhatmademefeelsoqueer.”
TheEarlputhishandonhisshoulderanddrewhimnearer.
“TheyshalltakenothingfromyouthatIcanholdforyou,”hesaid,drawinghisbreathhard.“Iwon’tbelieveyetthattheycantakeanythingfromyou.Youweremadefortheplace,and—well,youmayfillitstill.
