Холодний дім

The Track

           Bucketsay,butsitswithmostattentiveeyesuntilthesackeddepositoryofnoblesecretsisbroughtdownWhereareallthosesecretsnow?Doeshekeepthemyet?Didtheyflywithhimonthatsuddenjourney?anduntiltheprocessionmoves,andMr.Bucket’sviewischanged.Afterwhichhecomposeshimselfforaneasyrideandtakesnoteofthefittingsofthecarriageincaseheshouldeverfindsuchknowledgeuseful.ContrastenoughbetweenMr.TulkinghornshutupinhisdarkcarriageandMr.BucketshutupinHIS.Betweentheimmeasurabletrackofspacebeyondthelittlewoundthathasthrowntheoneintothefixedsleepwhichjoltssoheavilyoverthestonesofthestreets,andthenarrowtrackofbloodwhichkeepstheotherinthewatchfulstateexpressedineveryhairofhishead!Butitisallonetoboth;neitheristroubledaboutthat.Mr.Bucketsitsouttheprocessioninhisowneasymannerandglidesfromthecarriagewhentheopportunityhehassettledwithhimselfarrives.HemakesforSirLeicesterDedlock’s,whichisatpresentasortofhometohim,wherehecomesandgoesashelikesatallhours,whereheisalwayswelcomeandmademuchof,whereheknowsthewholeestablishment,andwalksinanatmosphereofmysteriousgreatness.NoknockingorringingforMr.Bucket.Hehascausedhimselftobeprovidedwithakeyandcanpassinathispleasure.Asheiscrossingthehall,Mercuryinformshim,"Here’sanotherletterforyou,Mr.Bucket,comebypost,"andgivesithim."Anotherone,eh?"saysMr.Bucket.IfMercuryshouldchancetobepossessedbyanylingeringcuriosityastoMr.

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Roboto Lora
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