Тяжёлые времена

The Great Manufacturer

           Onacertainnight,whenhewasgoingout,andLouisacametobidhimgood-byebeforehisdepartureashewasnottobehomeuntillateandshewouldnotseehimagainuntilthemorningheheldherinhisarms,lookingatherinhiskindestmanner,andsaid:

           ‘MydearLouisa,youareawoman!’

           Sheansweredwiththeold,quick,searchinglookofthenightwhenshewasfoundattheCircus;thencastdownhereyes.‘Yes,father.’

           ‘Mydear,’saidMr.Gradgrind,‘Imustspeakwithyoualoneandseriously.Cometomeinmyroomafterbreakfastto-morrow,willyou?’

           ‘Yes,father.’

           ‘Yourhandsarerathercold,Louisa.Areyounotwell?’

           ‘Quitewell,father.’

           ‘Andcheerful?’

           Shelookedathimagain,andsmiledinherpeculiarmanner.‘Iamascheerful,father,asIusuallyam,orusuallyhavebeen.’

           ‘That’swell,’saidMr.Gradgrind.So,hekissedherandwentaway;andLouisareturnedtothesereneapartmentofthehair-cuttingcharacter,andleaningherelbowonherhand,lookedagainattheshort-livedsparksthatsosoonsubsidedintoashes.

           ‘Areyouthere,Loo?’saidherbrother,lookinginatthedoor.Hewasquiteayounggentlemanofpleasurenow,andnotquiteaprepossessingone.

           ‘DearTom,’sheanswered,risingandembracinghim,‘howlongitissinceyouhavebeentoseeme!’

           ‘Why,Ihavebeenotherwiseengaged,Loo,intheevenings;andinthedaytimeoldBounderbyhasbeenkeepingmeatitrather.ButItouchhimupwithyouwhenhecomesittoostrong,andsowepreserveanunderstanding.

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