Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 17. Nobody’s Rival

           

           Whenhehadgonetohisownroom,andhadagainthrownhimselfintothechairbythefire,MrDoyceknockedatthedoor,candleinhand,toaskhimhowandatwhathourheproposedreturningonthemorrow?Aftersettlingthisquestion,hesaidawordtoMrDoyceaboutthisGowan—whowouldhaveruninhisheadagooddeal,ifhehadbeenhisrival.

           ‘Thosearenotgoodprospectsforapainter,’saidClennam.

           ‘No,’returnedDoyce.

           MrDoycestood,chamber-candlestickinhand,theotherhandinhispocket,lookinghardattheflameofhiscandle,withacertainquietperceptioninhisfacethattheyweregoingtosaysomethingmore.

           ‘Ithoughtourgoodfriendalittlechanged,andoutofspirits,afterhecamethismorning?’saidClennam.

           ‘Yes,’returnedDoyce.

           ‘Butnothisdaughter?’saidClennam.

           ‘No,’saidDoyce.

           Therewasapauseonbothsides.MrDoyce,stilllookingattheflameofhiscandle,slowlyresumed:

           ‘Thetruthis,hehastwicetakenhisdaughterabroadinthehopeofseparatingherfromMrGowan.Heratherthinkssheisdisposedtolikehim,andhehaspainfuldoubts(Iquiteagreewithhim,asIdaresayyoudo)ofthehopefulnessofsuchamarriage.’

           ‘There—’Clennamchoked,andcoughed,andstopped.

           ‘Yes,youhavetakencold,’saidDanielDoyce.Butwithoutlookingathim.

           ‘—Thereisanengagementbetweenthem,ofcourse?’saidClennamairily.

           ‘No.AsIamtold,certainlynot.Ithasbeensolicitedonthegentleman’spart,butnonehasbeenmade.Sincetheirrecentreturn,ourfriendhasyieldedtoaweeklyvisit,butthatistheutmost

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