Холодный дом

On the Watch

           Apersonwho,fiftyyearsago,wouldprobablyhavebeentriedattheOldBaileyforsomedemagogueproceeding,andseverelypunishedifnot,"addsSirLeicesterafteramoment’spause,"ifnothanged,drawn,andquartered."SirLeicesterappearstodischargehisstatelybreastofaburdeninpassingthiscapitalsentence,asifitwerethenextsatisfactorythingtohavingthesentenceexecuted."Butnightiscomingon,"sayshe,"andmyLadywilltakecold.Mydear,letusgoin."Astheyturntowardsthehall-door,LadyDedlockaddressesMr.Tulkinghornforthefirsttime."YousentmeamessagerespectingthepersonwhosewritingIhappenedtoinquireabout.Itwaslikeyoutorememberthecircumstance;Ihadquiteforgottenit.Yourmessageremindedmeofitagain.Ican’timaginewhatassociationIhadwithahandlikethat,butIsurelyhadsome.""Youhadsome?"Mr.Tulkinghornrepeats."Oh,yes!"returnsmyLadycarelessly."IthinkImusthavehadsome.Anddidyoureallytakethetroubletofindoutthewriterofthatactualthingwhatisit!affidavit?""Yes.""Howveryodd!"Theypassintoasombrebreakfast-roomonthegroundfloor,lightedinthedaybytwodeepwindows.Itisnowtwilight.Thefireglowsbrightlyonthepanelledwallandpalelyonthewindow-glass,where,throughthecoldreflectionoftheblaze,thecolderlandscapeshuddersinthewindandagreymistcreepsalong,theonlytravellerbesidesthewasteofclouds.MyLadyloungesinagreatchairinthechimney-corner,andSirLeicestertakesanothergreatchairopposite.

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