bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第128章
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also that he is being every moment； as it were； removed further
and further from her。
She will not speak it is plain。 So he must。
“In short； your ladyship；” says Mr Guppy； like a meanly
penitent thief； “the person I was to have had the letters of； has
come to a sudden end； and—” He stops。 Lady Dedlock calmly
finishes the sentence。
“And the letters are destroyed with the person？”
Mr Guppy would say no； if he could—as he is unable to hide。
“I believe so； your ladyship。”
If he could see the least sparkle of relief in her face now？ No； he
could see no such thing； even if that brave outside did not utterly
put him away； and he were not looking beyond it and about it。
He falters an awkward excuse or two for his failure。
“Is this all you have to say？” inquires Lady Dedlock； having
heard him out—or as nearly out as he can stumble。
Mr Guppy thinks that’s all。
“You had better be sure that you wish to say nothing more to
me； this being the last time you will have the opportunity。”
Mr Guppy is quite sure。 And indeed he has no such wish at
present； by any means。
“That is enough。 I will dispense with excuses。 Good evening to
you！” and she rings for Mercury to show the young man of the
name of Guppy out。
But in that house； in that same moment； there happens to be an
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old man of the name of Tulkinghorn。 And that old man； coming
with his quiet footstep to the library； has his hand at that moment
on the handle of the door—comes in—and comes face to face with
the young man as he is leaving the room。
One glance between the old man and the lady； and for an
instant the blind that is always down flies up。 Suspicion； eager and
sharp； looks out。 Another instant； close again。
“I beg your pardon； Lady Dedlock。 I beg your pardon a
thousand times。 It is so very unusual to find you here at this hour。
I supposed the room was empty。 I beg your pardon！”
“Stay！” She negligently calls him back。 “Remain here； I beg。 I
am going out to dinner。 I have nothing more to say to this young
man！”
The disconcerted young man bows； as he goes out； and
cringingly hopes that Mr Tulkinghorn of the Fields is well。
“Ay； ay？” says the lawyer； looking at him from under his bent
brows； though he has no need to look again—not he。 “From Kenge
and Carboy’s； surely？”
“Kenge and Carboy’s； Mr Tulkinghorn。 Name of Guppy； sir。”
“To be sure。 Why； thank you； Mr Guppy； I am very well！”
“Happy to hear it； sir。 You can’t be too well； sir； for the credit of
the profession。”
“Thank you； Mr Guppy！”
Mr Guppy sneaks away。 Mr Tulkinghorn； such a foil in his old…
fashioned rusty black to Lady Dedlock’s brightness； hands her
down the staircase to her carriage。 He returns rubbing his chin；
and rubs it a good deal in the course of the evening。
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Chapter 34
A Turn Of The Screw
ow； what；” says Mr George； “may this be？ Is it blank
cartridge； or ball？ A flash in the pan； or a shot？”
“N An open letter is the subject of the trooper’s
speculations； and it seems to perplex him mightily。 He looks at it
at arm’s length； brings it close to him； holds it in his right hand；
holds it in his left hand； reads it with his head on this side； with his
head on that side； contracts his eyebrows； elevates them； still；
cannot satisfy himself。 He smooths it out upon the table with his
heavy palm； and thoughtfully walking up and down the gallery；
makes a halt before it every now and then； to come upon it with a
fresh eye。 Even that won’t do。 “Is it；” Mr George muses； “blank
cartridge or ball？”
Phil Squod； with the aid of a brush and paint…pot； is employed
in the distance whitening the targets； softly whistling； in quick…
march time； and in drum…and…fife manner； that he must and he
will go back again to the girl he left behind him。
“Phil！” The trooper beckons as he calls him。
Phil approaches in his usual way； sidling off at first as if he were
going anywhere else； and then bearing down upon his commander
like a bayonet…charge。 Certain splashes of white show in high
relief upon his dirty face； and he scrapes his one eyebrow with the
handle of his brush。
“Attention； Phil！ Listen to this。”
“Steady； commander； steady。”
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“‘Sir。 Allow me to remind you （though there is no legal
necessity for my doing so； as you are aware） that the bill at two
months’ date； drawn on yourself by Mr Matthew Bagnet； and by
you accepted； for the sum of ninety…seven pounds four shillings
and ninepence； will become due tomorrow； when you will please
be prepared to take up the same on presentation。 Yours； JOSHUA
SMALLWEED。’—What do you make of that； Phil？”
“Mischief； guv’ner。”
“Why？”
“I think；” replies Phil； after pensively tracing out a cross…
wrinkle in his forehead with the brush handle； “that mischeevious
consequences is always meant when money’s asked for。”
“Lookye； Phil；” says the trooper； sitting on the table。 “First and
last； I have paid； I may say； half as much again as this principal； in
interest and one thing and another。”
Phil intimates； by sidling back a pace or two； with a very
unaccountable wrench of his wry face； that he does not regard the
transaction as being made more promising by this incident。
“And lookye further； Phil；” says the trooper； staying his
premature conclusions with a wave of his hand。 “There has always
been an understanding that this bill was to be what they call
Renewed。 And it has been renewed； no end of times。 What do you
say now？”
“I say that I think the times is come to a end at last。”
“You do？ Humph！ I am much of the same mind myself。”
“Joshua Smallweed is him that was brought here in a chair？”
“The same。”
“Guv’ner；” says Phil； with exceeding gravity； “he’s a leech in his
dispositions； he’s a screw and a wice in his actions； a snake in his
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twistings； and a lobster in his claws。”
Having thus expressively uttered his sentiments； Mr Squod；
after waiting a little to ascertain if any further remark be expected
of him； gets back； by his usual series of movements； to the target
he has in hand； and vigorously signifies； through his former
musical medium； that he must and he will return to that ideal
young lady。 George having folded the letter； walks in that
direction。
“There is a way； commander；” says Phil； looking cunningly at
him； “of settling this。”
“Paying the money； I suppose？ I wish I could。”
Phil shakes his head。 “No； guv’ner； no； not so bad as that。 There
is a way；” says Phil； with a highly artistic turn of his brush—“what
I’m a doing at present。”
“Whitewashing。”
Phil nods。
“A pretty way that would be！ Do you know what would become
of the Bagnets in that case？ Do you know they would be ruined to
pay off my old scores？ You’re a moral character；” says the trooper；
eyeing him in his large way with no small indignation； “upon my
life you are； Phil！”
Phil； on one knee at the target； is in course of protesting
earnestly； though not without many allegorical scoops of his
brush； and smoothings of the white surface round the rim with his
thumb； that he had forgotten the Bagnet responsibility； and would
not so much as injure a hair of the head of any member of that
worthy family； when steps are audible in the long passage without；
and a cheerful voice is heard to wonder whether George is at
home。 Phil； with a look at his master； hobbles up； saying； “Here’s
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the guv’ner； Mrs Bagnet！ Here he is！” and the old girl herself；
accompanied by Mr Bagnet； appears。
The old girl never appears in walking trim； in any season of the
year； without a grey cloth cloak； coarse and much worn but very
clean； which is； undoubtedly； the identical garment rendered so
interesting to Mr Bagnet by having made its way home to Europe
from another quarter of the globe； in company with Mrs Bagnet
and an umbrella。 The latter faithful appendage is also invariably a
part of the old girl’s presence out of doors。 It is of no colour known
in this life； and has a corrugated wooden crook for a handle； with a
metallic object let into its prow or beak； resembling a little model
of a fan…light over a street door； or one of the oval glasses out of a
pair of spectacles： which ornamental object has not that tenacious
capacity of sticking to its post that might be desired in an article
long associated with the British army。 The old girl’s umbrella is of
a flabby habit of waist； and seems to be in need of stays—an
appearance that is possibly referable to its having served； through
a series of years； at home as a cupboard； and on journeys as a
c
