Чувство и чувствительность

Chapter XLIV

           Godbepraised!—Butisittrue?isitreallytrue?"

           Elinorwouldnotspeak.Herepeatedtheinquirywithyetgreatereagerness.

           "ForGod’ssaketellme,issheoutofdanger,orisshenot?"

           "Wehopesheis."

           Heroseup,andwalkedacrosstheroom.

           "HadIknownasmuchhalfanhourago—ButsinceIAMhere,"—speakingwithaforcedvivacityashereturnedtohisseat—"whatdoesitsignify?—Foronce,MissDashwood—itwillbethelasttime,perhaps—letusbecheerfultogether.—Iaminafinemoodforgaiety.—Tellmehonestly"—adeeperglowoverspreadinghischeeks—"doyouthinkmemostaknaveorafool?"

           Elinorlookedathimwithgreaterastonishmentthanever.Shebegantothinkthathemustbeinliquor;—thestrangenessofsuchavisit,andofsuchmanners,seemednootherwiseintelligible;andwiththisimpressionsheimmediatelyrose,saying,

           "Mr.Willoughby,IadviseyouatpresenttoreturntoCombe—Iamnotatleisuretoremainwithyoulonger.—Whateveryourbusinessmaybewithme,itwillbebetterrecollectedandexplainedto-morrow."

           "Iunderstandyou,"hereplied,withanexpressivesmile,andavoiceperfectlycalm;"yes,Iamverydrunk.—ApintofporterwithmycoldbeefatMarlboroughwasenoughtoover-setme."

           "AtMarlborough!"—criedElinor,moreandmoreatalosstounderstandwhathewouldbeat.

           "Yes,—IleftLondonthismorningateighto’clock,andtheonlytenminutesIhavespentoutofmychaisesincethattimeprocuredmeanuncheonatMarlborough.

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