Мидлмарч

Chapter 33

           It’sprettynightwohundredthere’smoreinthebox,andnobodyknowshowmuchtherewas.TakeitanddoasItellyou."

           Mary,standingbythefire,sawitsredlightfallingontheoldman,proppeduponhispillowsandbed-rest,withhisbonyhandholdingoutthekey,andthemoneylyingonthequiltbeforehim.Sheneverforgotthatvisionofamanwantingtodoashelikedatthelast.Butthewayinwhichhehadputtheofferofthemoneyurgedhertospeakwithharderresolutionthanever.

           "Itisofnouse,sir.Iwillnotdoit.Putupyourmoney.Iwillnottouchyourmoney.IwilldoanythingelseIcantocomfortyou;butIwillnottouchyourkeysoryourmoney."

           "Anythingelseanythingelse!"saidoldFeatherstone,withhoarserage,which,asifinanightmare,triedtobeloud,andyetwasonlyjustaudible."Iwantnothingelse.Youcomehereyoucomehere."

           Maryapproachedhimcautiously,knowinghimtoowell.Shesawhimdroppinghiskeysandtryingtograsphisstick,whilehelookedatherlikeanagedhyena,themusclesofhisfacegettingdistortedwiththeeffortofhishand.Shepausedatasafedistance.

           "Letmegiveyousomecordial,"shesaid,quietly,"andtrytocomposeyourself.Youwillperhapsgotosleep.Andto-morrowbydaylightyoucandoasyoulike."

           Heliftedthestick,inspiteofherbeingbeyondhisreach,andthrewitwithahardeffortwhichwasbutimpotence.

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