Холодний дім

Jo’s Will

           "IthoughtIwasamosta-starvin,sir,"saysJo,soonputtingdownhisfood,"butIdon’tknownothinknoteventhat.Idon’tcareforeatingwittlesnoryetfordrinkingon’em."AndJostandsshiveringandlookingatthebreakfastwonderingly.AllanWoodcourtlayshishanduponhispulseandonhischest."Drawbreath,Jo!""Itdraws,"saysJo,"asheavyasacart."Hemightadd,"Andrattleslikeit,"butheonlymutters,"I’ma-movingon,sir."Allanlooksaboutforanapothecary’sshop.Thereisnoneathand,butataverndoesaswellorbetter.Heobtainsalittlemeasureofwineandgivestheladaportionofitverycarefully.Hebeginstorevivealmostassoonasitpasseshislips."Wemayrepeatthatdose,Jo,"observesAllanafterwatchinghimwithhisattentiveface."So!Nowwewilltakefiveminutes’rest,andthengoonagain."Leavingtheboysittingonthebenchofthebreakfast-stall,withhisbackagainstanironrailing,AllanWoodcourtpacesupanddownintheearlysunshine,castinganoccasionallooktowardshimwithoutappearingtowatchhim.Itrequiresnodiscernmenttoperceivethatheiswarmedandrefreshed.Ifafacesoshadedcanbrighten,hisfacebrightenssomewhat;andbylittleandlittleheeatsthesliceofbreadhehadsohopelesslylaiddown.Observantofthesesignsofimprovement,Allanengageshiminconversationandelicitstohisnosmallwondertheadventureoftheladyintheveil,withallitsconsequences.Joslowlymunchesasheslowlytellsit.Whenhehasfinishedhisstoryandhisbread,theygoonagain.

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Roboto Lora
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