Большие ожидания

Chapter 40

           Whenhewasnotasleep,orplayingacomplicatedkindofPatiencewitharaggedpackofcardsofhisown—agamethatIneversawbeforeorsince,andinwhichherecordedhiswinningsbystickinghisjackknifeintothetable—whenhewasnotengagedineitherofthesepursuits,hewouldaskmetoreadtohim—"Foreignlanguage,dearboy!"WhileIcomplied,he,notcomprehendingasingleword,wouldstandbeforethefiresurveyingmewiththeairofanExhibitor,andIwouldseehim,betweenthefingersofthehandwithwhichIshadedmyface,appealingindumbshowtothefurnituretotakenoticeofmyproficiency.Theimaginarystudentpursuedbythemisshapencreaturehehadimpiouslymade,wasnotmorewretchedthanI,pursuedbythecreaturewhohadmademe,andrecoilingfromhimwithastrongerrepulsion,themoreheadmiredmeandthefonderhewasofme.

           Thisiswrittenof,Iamsensible,asifithadlastedayear.Itlastedaboutfivedays.ExpectingHerbertallthetime,Idarednotgoout,exceptwhenItookProvisforanairingafterdark.Atlength,oneeveningwhendinnerwasoverandIhaddroppedintoaslumberquitewornout—formynightshadbeenagitatedandmyrestbrokenbyfearfuldreams—Iwasrousedbythewelcomefootsteponthestaircase.Provis,whohadbeenasleeptoo,staggeredupatthenoiseImade,andinaninstantIsawhisjackknifeshininginhishand.

           "Quiet!It’sHerbert!"Isaid;andHerbertcameburstingin,withtheairyfreshnessofsixhundredmilesofFranceuponhim

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