Холодный дом

Closing in

           "Whatawatchtoreturngoodforevilifittickedinanswer,"Don’tgohome!"Hepassesoutintothestreetsandwalkson,withhishandsbehindhim,undertheshadowoftheloftyhouses,manyofwhosemysteries,difficulties,mortgages,delicateaffairsofallkinds,aretreasuredupwithinhisoldblacksatinwaistcoat.Heisintheconfidenceoftheverybricksandmortar.Thehighchimney-stackstelegraphfamilysecretstohim.Yetthereisnotavoiceinamileofthemtowhisper,"Don’tgohome!"Throughthestirandmotionofthecommonerstreets;throughtheroarandjarofmanyvehicles,manyfeet,manyvoices;withtheblazingshop-lightslightinghimon,thewestwindblowinghimon,andthecrowdpressinghimon,heispitilesslyurgeduponhisway,andnothingmeetshimmurmuring,"Don’tgohome!"Arrivedatlastinhisdullroomtolighthiscandles,andlookroundandup,andseetheRomanpointingfromtheceiling,thereisnonewsignificanceintheRoman’shandto-nightorintheflutteroftheattendantgroupstogivehimthelatewarning,"Don’tcomehere!"Itisamoonlightnight,butthemoon,beingpastthefull,isonlynowrisingoverthegreatwildernessofLondon.Thestarsareshiningastheyshoneabovetheturret-leadsatChesneyWold.Thiswoman,ashehasoflatebeensoaccustomedtocallher,looksoutuponthem.Hersoulisturbulentwithinher;sheissickatheartandrestless.Thelargeroomsaretoocrampedandclose.Shecannotenduretheirrestraintandwillwalkaloneinaneighbouringgarden.

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