Крамка старожитностей

Chapter 5

           

           Itwasadirtylittlebox,thiscounting-house,withnothinginitbutanoldrickettydeskandtwostools,ahat-peg,anancientalmanack,aninkstandwithnoink,andthestumpofonepen,andaneight-dayclockwhichhadn’tgoneforeighteenyearsatleast,andofwhichtheminute-handhadbeentwistedoffforatooth-pick.DanielQuilppulledhishatoverhisbrows,climbedontothedesk(whichhadaflattop)andstretchinghisshortlengthuponitwenttosleepwitheaseofanoldpractitioner;intending,nodoubt,tocompensatehimselfforthedeprivationoflastnight’srest,byalongandsoundnap.

           Sounditmighthavebeen,butlongitwasnot,forhehadnotbeenasleepaquarterofanhourwhentheboyopenedthedoorandthrustinhishead,whichwaslikeabundleofbadly-pickedoakum.Quilpwasalightsleeperandstartedupdirectly.

           ‘Here’ssomebodyforyou,’saidtheboy.

           ‘Who?’

           ‘Idon’tknow.’

           ‘Ask!’saidQuilp,seizingthetrifleofwoodbeforementionedandthrowingitathimwithsuchdexteritythatitwaswelltheboydisappearedbeforeitreachedthespotonwhichhehadstood.‘Ask,youdog.’

           Notcaringtoventurewithinrangeofsuchmisslesagain,theboydiscreetlysentinhissteadthefirstcauseoftheinterruption,whonowpresentedherselfatthedoor.

           ‘What,Nelly!’criedQuilp.

           ‘Yes,’saidthechild,hesitatingwhethertoenterorretreat,forthedwarfjustroused,withhisdishevelledhairhangingallabouthimandayellowhandkerchiefoverhishead,wassomethingfearfultobehold;it’sonlyme,sir

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