Зима тревоги нашей
Chapter 7
Whatelsecanhedowithadollarbutgetdrunk?Maybewithadecentamounthecouldgetwell."
"Noonewoulddaredothat,"Marycried."Thatwouldbeafterkillinghim.Isn’tthatso,Mr.Baker?"
"Poorchap,"Mr.Bakersaid."AfinefamilytheTaylorswere.Itmakesmesicktoseehimthisway.ButMary’sright.He’dprobablydrinkhimselftodeath."
"Heisanyway.Buthe’ssafefromme.Idon’thaveadecentamounttogivehim."
"It’stheprinciple,"Mr.Bakersaid.
Mrs.Bakercontributedafemininesavagery:"Heshouldbeinaninstitutionwheretheycouldlookafterhim."
Allthreewereannoyedwithme.IshouldhavestayedwiththeBostonTeaParty.
Strangehowthemindgoesromping,playingblindman’sbufforpin-the-tail-on-the-donkeywhenitshouldbeusingeveryobservationtofindapaththroughtheminefieldofsecretplansandsubmergedobstacles.IunderstoodthehouseofBakerandthehouseofHawley,thedarkwallsandcurtains,thefunerealrubberplantsunacquaintedwithsun;theportraitsandprintsandremembrancesofothertimesinpotteryandscrimshaw,infabricsandwoodwhichboltittorealityandtopermanence.Chairschangewithstyleandcomfortbutchestsandtables,bookcasesanddesks,relatetoasolidpast.Hawleywasmorethanafamily.Itwasahouse.AndthatwaswhypoorDannyheldontoTaylorMeadow.Withoutit,nofamily—andsoonnotevenaname.Bytoneandinflectionanddesire,thethreesittingtherehadcanceledhim.
