Холодный дом

A Struggle

           Buthewas,inhisway,justasbadImeanasgood;andinshortitwastheoldstory,andnobodywouldleavemeanypossibilityofdoinganythingmeritorious.TheelderMr.Turveydropwasinbed,Ifound,andCaddywasmillinghischocolate,whichamelancholylittleboywhowasanapprenticeitseemedsuchacuriousthingtobeapprenticedtothetradeofdancingwaswaitingtocarryupstairs.Herfather-in-lawwasextremelykindandconsiderate,Caddytoldme,andtheylivedmosthappilytogether.(Whenshespokeoftheirlivingtogether,shemeantthattheoldgentlemanhadallthegoodthingsandallthegoodlodging,whilesheandherhusbandhadwhattheycouldget,andwerepokedintotwocornerroomsovertheMews.)"Andhowisyourmama,Caddy?"saidI."Why,Ihearofher,Esther,"repliedCaddy,"throughPa,butIseeverylittleofher.Wearegoodfriends,Iamgladtosay,butMathinksthereissomethingabsurdinmyhavingmarriedadancing-master,andsheisratherafraidofitsextendingtoher."ItstruckmethatifMrs.Jellybyhaddischargedherownnaturaldutiesandobligationsbeforeshesweptthehorizonwithatelescopeinsearchofothers,shewouldhavetakenthebestprecautionsagainstbecomingabsurd,butIneedscarcelyobservethatIkeptthistomyself."Andyourpapa,Caddy?""Hecomeshereeveryevening,"returnedCaddy,"andissofondofsittinginthecornertherethatit’satreattoseehim."Lookingatthecorner,IplainlyperceivedthemarkofMr.Jellyby’sheadagainstthewall.Itwasconsolatorytoknowthathehadfoundsucharesting-placeforit.

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