Маленький лорд Фаунтлерой
Chapter V
Ibegyourpardon,”withseriouspolitenessanddelicacy,“forcontradictingyou.Mr.Hobbstoldme,iftherewereanotherwar,youknow,Ishouldhaveto—tobeanAmerican.”
TheEarlgaveagrimhalflaugh—itwasshortandgrim,butitwasalaugh.
“Youwould,wouldyou?”hesaid.
HehatedAmericaandAmericans,butitamusedhimtoseehowseriousandinterestedthissmallpatriotwas.HethoughtthatsogoodanAmericanmightmakearathergoodEnglishmanwhenhewasaman.
TheyhadnottimetogoverydeepintotheRevolutionagain—andindeedLordFauntleroyfeltsomedelicacyaboutreturningtothesubject—beforedinnerwasannounced.
Cedriclefthischairandwenttohisnoblekinsman.Helookeddownathisgoutyfoot.
“Wouldyoulikemetohelpyou?”hesaidpolitely.“Youcouldleanonme,youknow.OncewhenMr.Hobbshurthisfootwithapotato-barrelrollingonit,heusedtoleanonme.”
Thebigfootmanalmostperiledhisreputationandhissituationbysmiling.Hewasanaristocraticfootmanwhohadalwayslivedinthebestofnoblefamilies,andhehadneversmiled;indeed,hewouldhavefelthimselfadisgracedandvulgarfootmanifhehadallowedhimselftobeledbyanycircumstancewhateverintosuchanindiscretionasasmile.Buthehadaverynarrowescape.HeonlyjustsavedhimselfbystaringstraightovertheEarl’sheadataveryuglypicture.
TheEarllookedhisvaliantyoungrelativeoverfromheadtofoot.
“Doyouthinkyoucoulddoit?”heaskedgruffly.
“ITHINKIcould,”saidCedric.“I’mstrong.I’mseven,youknow.
