Холодный дом

In Mr. Tulkinghorn’s Room

           Hostsofstarsarevisibleto-night,thoughtheirbrilliancyiseclipsedbythesplendourofthemoon.Ifhebeseekinghisownstarashemethodicallyturnsandturnsupontheleads,itshouldbebutapaleonetobesorustilyrepresentedbelow.Ifhebetracingouthisdestiny,thatmaybewritteninothercharactersnearertohishand.Ashepacestheleadswithhiseyesmostprobablyashighabovehisthoughtsastheyarehighabovetheearth,heissuddenlystoppedinpassingthewindowbytwoeyesthatmeethisown.Theceilingofhisroomisratherlow;andtheupperpartofthedoor,whichisoppositethewindow,isofglass.Thereisaninnerbaizedoor,too,butthenightbeingwarmhedidnotcloseitwhenhecameupstairs.Theseeyesthatmeethisownarelookinginthroughtheglassfromthecorridoroutside.Heknowsthemwell.ThebloodhasnotflushedintohisfacesosuddenlyandredlyformanyalongyearaswhenherecognizesLadyDedlock.Hestepsintotheroom,andshecomesintoo,closingboththedoorsbehindher.Thereisawilddisturbanceisitfearoranger?inhereyes.Inhercarriageandallelseshelooksasshelookeddownstairstwohoursago.Isitfearorisitangernow?Hecannotbesure.Bothmightbeaspale,bothasintent."LadyDedlock?"Shedoesnotspeakatfirst,norevenwhenshehasslowlydroppedintotheeasy-chairbythetable.Theylookateachother,liketwopictures."Whyhaveyoutoldmystorytosomanypersons?""LadyDedlock,itwasnecessaryformetoinformyouthatIknewit.

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