Тяжёлые времена

Stephen Blackpool

           

           ‘Earlyt’night,lass?’

           ‘’TimesI’malittleearly,Stephen!’timesalittlelate.I’mnevertobecountedon,goinghome.’

           ‘Norgoingt’otherway,neither,’tseemstome,Rachael?’

           ‘No,Stephen.’

           Helookedatherwithsomedisappointmentinhisface,butwitharespectfulandpatientconvictionthatshemustberightinwhatevershedid.Theexpressionwasnotlostuponher;shelaidherhandlightlyonhisarmamomentasiftothankhimforit.

           ‘Wearesuchtruefriends,lad,andsucholdfriends,andgettingtobesucholdfolk,now.’

           ‘No,Rachael,thou’rtasyoungaseverthouwast.’

           ‘Oneofuswouldbepuzzledhowtogetold,Stephen,without’tothergettingsotoo,bothbeingalive,’sheanswered,laughing;‘but,anyways,we’resucholdfriends,andt’hideawordofhonesttruthfro’oneanotherwouldbeasinandapity.’Tisbetternottowalktoomuchtogether.’Times,yes!’Twouldbehard,indeed,if’twasnottobeatall,’shesaid,withacheerfulnessshesoughttocommunicatetohim.

           ‘’Tishard,anyways,Rachael.’

           ‘Trytothinknot;and’twillseembetter.’

           ‘I’vetriedalongtime,and’ta’ntgotbetter.Butthou’rtright;’tmightmakfoktalk,evenofthee.Thouhastbeenthattome,Rachael,throughsomanyyear:thouhastdonemesomuchgood,andheartenedofmeinthatcheeringway,thatthywordisalawtome.Ah,lass,andabrightgoodlaw!Betterthansomerealones.

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