hard times(艰难时世)-第59章
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for;” thought James Harthouse; reversing the reflection of his first
day’s knowledge of her pretty face。 “So much the less; so much the
less。”
Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics
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Hard Times 229
Chapter 8
Explosion
he next morning was too bright a morning for sleep; and
James Harthouse rose early; and sat in the pleasant bay
T
window of his dressing…room; smoking the rare tobacco
that had had so wholesome an influence on his young friend。
Reposing in the sunlight; with the fragrance of his eastern pipe
about him; and the dreamy smoke vanishing into the air; so rich
and soft with summer odours; he reckoned up his advantages as
an idle winner might count his gains。 He was not at all bored for
the time; and could give his mind to it。
He had established a confidence with her; from which her
husband was excluded。 He had established a confidence with her;
that absolutely turned upon her indifference towards her
husband; and the absence; now and at all times; of any
congeniality between them。 He had artfully; but plainly assured
her; that he knew her heart in its most delicate recesses; he had
come so near to her through its tenderest sentiment; he had
associated himself with that feeling; and the barrier behind which
she lived; melted away。 All very odd; and very satisfactory!
And yet he had not even now; any earnest wickedness of
purpose in him。 Publicly and privately; it were much better for the
age in which he lived; that he and the legion of whom he was one
were designedly bad; than indifferent and purposeless。 It is the
drifting icebergs setting with any current anywhere; that wreck
the ships。
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Hard Times 230
When the Devil goeth about like a roaring lion; he goeth about
in a shape by which few but savages and hunters are attracted。
But; when he is trimmed; smoothed; and varnished; according to
the mode: when he is aweary of vice; and aweary of virtue; used up
as to brimstone; and used up as to bliss; then; whether he take to
the serving out of red tape; or to the kindling of red fire; he is the
very Devil。
So; James Harthouse reclined in the window; indolently
smoking; and reckoning up the steps he had taken on the road by
which he happened to be travelling。 The end to which it led was
before him; pretty plainly; but he troubled himself with no
calculations about it。 What will be; will be。
As he had rather a long ride to take that day—for there was a
public occasion “to do” at some distance; which afforded a
tolerable opportunity of going in for the Gradgrind men—he
dressed early; and went down to breakfast。 He was anxious to see
if she had relapsed since the previous evening。 No。 He resumed
where he had left off。 The was a look of interest for him again。
He got through the day as much (or as little) to his own
satisfaction; as was to be expected under the fatiguing
circumstances; and came riding back at six o’clock。 There was a
sweep of some half mile between the lodge and the house; and he
was riding along at a foot pace over the smooth gravel; once
Nickits’s; when Mr Bounderby burst out of the shrubbery; with
such violence as to make his horse shy across the road。
“Harthouse;” cried Mr Bounderby。 “Have you heard?”
“Heard what?” said Harthouse; soothing his horse; and
inwardly favouring Mr Bounderby with no good wishes。
“Then you haven’t heard!”
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“I have heard you; and so has this brute。 I have heard nothing
else。”
Mr Bounderby; red and hot; planted himself in the centre of the
path before the horse’s head; to explode his bombshell with more
effect。
“The Bank’s robbed!”
“You don’t mean it!”
“Robbed last night; sir。 Robbed in an extraordinary manner。
Robbed with a false key。”
“Of much?”
Mr Bounderby; in his desire to make the most of it; really
seemed mortified by being obliged to reply; “Why; no; not of very
much。 But it might have been。”
“Of how much?”
“Oh! as a sum—if you stick to a sum—of not more than a
hundred and fifty pound;” said Bounderby; with impatience。 “But
it’s not the sum; it’s the fact。 It’s the fact of the bank being robbed;
that’s the important circumstance。 I am surprised you don’t see
it。”
“My dear Bounderby;” said James; dismounting; and giving his
bridle to his servant; “I do see it; and am as overcome as you can
possibly desire me to be; by the spectacle afforded to my mental
view。 Nevertheless; I may be allowed; I hope; to congratulate
you—which I do with all my soul; I assure you—on your not
having sustained a greater loss。”
“Thank’ee;” replied Bounderby; in a short; ungracious manner。
“But I tell you what。 It might have been twenty thousand pound。”
“I suppose it might。”
“Suppose it might! By the Lord; you may suppose so。 By
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George!” said Mr Bounderby; with sundry menacing nods and
shakes of his head; “It might have been twice twenty。 There’s no
knowing what it would have been; or wouldn’t have been; as it
was; but for the fellows’ being disturbed。”
Louisa had come up now; and Mrs Sparsit; and Bitzer。
“Here’s Tom Gradgrind’s daughter knows pretty well what it
might have been; if you don’t;” blustered Bounderby。 “Dropped;
sir; as if she was shot when I told her! Never knew her to do such a
thing before。 Does her credit; under the circumstances; in my
opinion!”
She still looked faint and pale。 James Harthouse begged her to
take his arm; and as they moved on very slowly; asked her how the
robbery had been committed。
“Why; I am going to tell you;” said Bounderby; irritably giving
his arm to Mrs Sparsit。 “If you hadn’t been so mighty particular
about the sum; I should have begun to tell you before。 You know
this lady (for she is a lady); Mrs Sparsit?”
“I have already had the honour—”
“Very well。 And this young man; Bitzer; you saw him too on the
same occasion?” Mr Harthouse inclined his head in assent; and
Bitzer knuckled his forehead。
“Very well。 They live at the Bank。 You know they live at the
Bank; perhaps? Very well。 Yesterday afternoon; at the close of
business hours; everything was