Тяжёлые времена

Never Wonder

           Gradgrindwasforeverworking,inprintandoutofprint,atthiseccentricsum,andhenevercouldmakeouthowityieldedthisunaccountableproduct.

           ‘Iamsickofmylife,Loo.I,hateitaltogether,andIhateeverybodyexceptyou,’saidtheunnaturalyoungThomasGradgrindinthehair-cuttingchamberattwilight.

           ‘Youdon’thateSissy,Tom?’

           ‘IhatetobeobligedtocallherJupe.Andshehatesme,’saidTom,moodily.

           ‘No,shedoesnot,Tom,Iamsure!’

           ‘Shemust,’saidTom.‘Shemustjusthateanddetestthewholeset-outofus.They’llbotherherheadoff,Ithink,beforetheyhavedonewithher.Alreadyshe’sgettingaspaleaswax,andasheavyasIam.’

           YoungThomasexpressedthesesentimentssittingastrideofachairbeforethefire,withhisarmsontheback,andhissulkyfaceonhisarms.Hissistersatinthedarkercornerbythefireside,nowlookingathim,nowlookingatthebrightsparksastheydroppeduponthehearth.

           ‘Astome,’saidTom,tumblinghishairallmannerofwayswithhissulkyhands,‘IamaDonkey,that’swhatIam.Iamasobstinateasone,Iammorestupidthanone,Igetasmuchpleasureasone,andIshouldliketokicklikeone.’

           ‘Notme,Ihope,Tom?’

           ‘No,Loo;Iwouldn’thurtyou.Imadeanexceptionofyouatfirst.Idon’tknowwhatthisjollyoldJaundicedJail,’Tomhadpausedtofindasufficientlycomplimentaryandexpressivenamefortheparentalroof,andseemedtorelievehismindforamomentbythestrongalliterationofthisone,‘wouldbewithoutyou.

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