Тяжёлые времена

           Blackpool’—windspringingupveryfast—‘mayItakethelibertyofaskingyouhowithappensthatyourefusedtobeinthisCombination?’

           ‘How’thappens?’

           ‘Ah!’saidMr.Bounderby,withhisthumbsinthearmsofhiscoat,andjerkinghisheadandshuttinghiseyesinconfidencewiththeoppositewall:‘howithappens.’

           ‘I’dleefernotcoomto’t,sir;butsinyouputth’question—an’notwant’nt’beill-manner’n—I’llanswer.Ihapassedapromess.’

           ‘Nottome,youknow,’saidBounderby.(Gustyweatherwithdeceitfulcalms.Onenowprevailing.)

           ‘Ono,sir.Nottoyo.’

           ‘Asforme,anyconsiderationformehashadjustnothingatalltodowithit,’saidBounderby,stillinconfidencewiththewall.‘IfonlyJosiahBounderbyofCoketownhadbeeninquestion,youwouldhavejoinedandmadenobonesaboutit?’

           ‘Whyyes,sir.’Tistrue.’

           ‘Thoughheknows,’saidMr.Bounderby,nowblowingagale,‘thatthereareasetofrascalsandrebelswhomtransportationistoogoodfor!Now,Mr.Harthouse,youhavebeenknockingaboutintheworldsometime.Didyouevermeetwithanythinglikethatmanoutofthisblessedcountry?’AndMr.Bounderbypointedhimoutforinspection,withanangryfinger.

           ‘Nay,ma’am,’saidStephenBlackpool,staunchlyprotestingagainstthewordsthathadbeenused,andinstinctivelyaddressinghimselftoLouisa,afterglancingatherface.‘Notrebels,noryetrascals.Nowto’th’kind,ma’am,nowto’th’kind.