Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 30. The Word of a Gentleman

           

           Onthisman,withhismoustachegoingupandhisnosecomingdowninthatmostevilofsmiles,andwithhissurfaceeyeslookingasiftheybelongedtohisdyedhair,andhadhadtheirnaturalpowerofreflectinglightstoppedbysomesimilarprocess,Nature,alwaystrue,andneverworkinginvain,hadsetthemark,Beware!Itwasnotherfault,ifthewarningwerefruitless.Sheisnevertoblameinanysuchinstance.

           MrBlandois,havingfinishedhisrepastandcleanedhisfingers,tookacigarfromhispocket,and,lyingonthewindow-seatagain,smokeditoutathisleisure,occasionallyapostrophisingthesmokeasitpartedfromhisthinlipsinathinstream:

           ‘Blandois,youshallturnthetablesonsociety,mylittlechild.Haha!Holyblue,youhavebegunwell,Blandois!Atapinch,anexcellentmasterinEnglishorFrench;amanforthebosomoffamilies!Youhaveaquickperception,youhavehumour,youhaveease,youhaveinsinuatingmanners,youhaveagoodappearance;ineffect,youareagentleman!Agentlemanyoushalllive,mysmallboy,andagentlemanyoushalldie.Youshallwin,howeverthegamegoes.Theyshallallconfessyourmerit,Blandois.Youshallsubduethesocietywhichhasgrievouslywrongedyou,toyourownhighspirit.Deathofmysoul!Youarehighspiritedbyrightandbynature,myBlandois!’

           Tosuchsoothingmurmursdidthisgentlemansmokeouthiscigaranddrinkouthisbottleofwine.

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