Скорбь сатаны

Chapter 2

           FiveMillions!I,thestarvingliteraryhackthefriendless,hopeless,almostrecklesshaunteroflownewspaperdensI,thepossessorof"overFiveMillionsofPoundsSterling"!Itriedtograsptheastoundingfactforfactitevidentlywasbutcouldnot.Itseemedtomeawilddelusion,bornofthedizzyvaguenesswhichlackoffoodengenderedinmybrain.Istaredroundtheroom;themeanmiserablefurniturethefirelessgratethedirtylampthelowtrucklebedsteadtheevidencesofpenuryandwantoneveryside;andthenthentheoverwhelmingcontrastbetweenthepovertythatenvironedmeandthenewsIhadjustreceived,struckmeasthewildest,mostridiculousincongruityIhadeverheardoforimaginedandIgaveventtoashoutoflaughter.

           "WasthereeversuchacapriceofmadFortune!"Icriedaloud"Whowouldhaveimaginedit!GoodGod!I!I,ofallmenintheworldtobesuddenlychosenoutforthisluck!ByHeaven!Ifitisalltrue,I’llmakesocietyspinroundlikeatoponmyhandbeforeIammanymonthsolder!"

           AndIlaughedloudlyagain;laughedjustasIhadpreviouslysworn,simplybywayofrelieftomyfeelings.Someonelaughedinansweralaughthatseemedtoechomine.Icheckedmyselfabruptly,somewhatstartled,andlistened.Rainpouredoutside,andthewindshriekedlikeapetulantshrewtheviolinistnextdoorwaspractisingabrilliantrouladeupanddownhisinstrumentbuttherewerenoothersoundsthanthese.

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