Холодный дом

Steel and Iron

           "Thisisaplacetomakeaman’sheadachetoo!"saysthetrooper,lookingabouthimforacounting-house."Whocomeshere?ThisisverylikemebeforeIwassetup.Thisoughttobemynephew,iflikenessesruninfamilies.Yourservant,sir.""Yours,sir.Areyoulookingforanyone?""Excuseme.YoungMr.Rouncewell,Ibelieve?""Yes.""Iwaslookingforyourfather,sir.Iwishtohaveawordwithhim."Theyoungman,tellinghimheisfortunateinhischoiceofatime,forhisfatheristhere,leadsthewaytotheofficewhereheistobefound."VerylikemebeforeIwassetupdevilishlikeme!"thinksthetrooperashefollows.Theycometoabuildingintheyardwithanofficeonanupperfloor.Atsightofthegentlemanintheoffice,Mr.Georgeturnsveryred."WhatnameshallIsaytomyfather?"askstheyoungman.George,fulloftheideaofiron,indesperationanswers"Steel,"andissopresented.Heisleftalonewiththegentlemanintheoffice,whositsatatablewithaccount-booksbeforehimandsomesheetsofpaperblottedwithhostsoffiguresanddrawingsofcunningshapes.Itisabareoffice,withbarewindows,lookingontheironviewbelow.Tumbledtogetheronthetablearesomepiecesofiron,purposelybrokentobetestedatvariousperiodsoftheirservice,invariouscapacities.Thereisiron-dustoneverything;andthesmokeisseenthroughthewindowsrollingheavilyoutofthetallchimneystominglewiththesmokefromavaporousBabylonofotherchimneys."Iamatyourservice,Mr.Steel,"saysthegentlemanwhenhisvisitorhastakenarustychair."Well,Mr.

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