bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第105节
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me a good turn。 Think of the children that your business lays with
often and often； and that you see grow up！”
“Well； well！” says Mr Bucket； “you train him respectable； and
he’ll be a comfort to you； and look after you in your old age； you
know。”
“I mean to try hard；” she answers； wiping her eyes。 “But I have
been a thinking； being overtired tonight； and not well with the
ague； of all the many things that’ll come in his way。 My master will
be against it； and he’ll be beat； and see me beat； and made to fear
his home； and perhaps to stray wild。 If I work for him ever so
much and ever so hard； there’s no one to help me； and if he should
be turned bad； spite of all I could do； and the time should come
when I should sit by him in his sleep； made hard and changed； an’t
it likely I should think of him as he lies in my lap now； and wish he
had died as Jenny’s child died！”
“There； there！” says Jenny。 “Liz； you’re tired and ill。 Let me
take him。”
In doing so； she displaces the mother’s dress； but quickly
readjusts it over the wounded and bruised bosom where the baby
has been lying。
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“It’s my dead child；” says Jenny； walking up and down as she
nurses； “that makes me love this child so dear； and it’s my dead
child that makes her love it so dear too； as even to think of its
being taken away from her now。 While she thinks that； I think
what fortune would I give to have my darling back。 But we mean
the same thing； if we knew how to say it； us two mothers does in
our poor hearts！”
As Mr Snagsby blows his nose； and coughs his cough of
sympathy； a step is heard without。 Mr Bucket throws his light into
the doorway； and says to Mr Snagsby； “Now； what do you say to
Toughy？ Will he do？”
“That’s Jo；” says Mr Snagsby。
Jo stands amazed in the disc of light； like a ragged figure in a
magic…lanthorn； trembling to think that he has offended against
the law in not having moved on far enough。 Mr Snagsby； however；
giving him the consolatory assurance； “It’s only a job you will be
paid for； Jo；” he recovers； and； on being taken outside by Mr
Bucket for a little private confabulation； tells his tale satisfactorily；
though out of breath。
“I have squared it with the lad；” says Mr Bucket； returning；
“and it’s all right。 Now； Mr Snagsby； we’re ready for you。”
First； Jo has to complete his errand of good…nature by handing
over the physic he has been to get； which he delivers with the
laconic verbal direction that “it’s to be took all d’rectly。” Secondly；
Mr Snagsby has to lay upon the table half…a…crown； his usual
panacea for an immense variety of afflictions。 Thirdly； Mr Bucket
has to take Jo by the arm a little above the elbow and walk him on
before him： without which observance； neither the Tough Subject
nor any other subject could be professionally conducted to
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Bleak House 437
Lincoln’s Inn Fields。 These arrangements completed； they give the
women good night； and come out once more into black and foul
Tom…all…Alone’s。
By the noisome ways through which they descended into that
pit； they gradually emerge from it； the crowd flitting； and
whistling； and skulking about them； until they come to the verge；
where restoration of the bull’s…eyes is made to Darby。 Here； the
crowd like a concourse of imprisoned demons； turns back； yelling；
and is seen no more。 Through the clearer and fresher streets；
never so clear and fresh to Mr Snagsby’s mind as now； they walk
and ride； until they come to Mr Tulkinghorn’s gate。
As they ascend the dim stairs （Mr Tulkinghorn’s chambers
being on the first floor）； Mr Bucket mentions that he has the key of
the outer door in his pocket； and that there is no need to ring。 For
a man so expert in most things of that kind； Bucket takes time to
open the door； and makes some noise too。 It may be that he
sounds a note of preparation。
Howbeit； they come at last into the hall； where a lamp is
burning； and so into Mr Tulkinghorn’s usual room—the room
where he drank his old wine tonight。 He is not there； but his two
old…fashioned candlesticks are； and the room is tolerably light。
Mr Bucket； still having his professional hold of Jo； and
appearing to Mr Snagsby to possess an unlimited number of eyes；
makes a little way into this room； when Jo starts and stops。
“What’s the matter？” says Bucket in a whisper。
“There she is！” cries Jo。
“Who！”
“The lady！”
A female figure； closely veiled； stands in the middle of the room；
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Bleak House 438
where the light falls upon it。 It is quite still； and silent。 The front of
the figure is towards them； but it takes no notice of their entrance；
and remains like a statue。
“Now； tell me；” says Bucket aloud； “how you know that to be
the lady。”
“I know the wale；” replies Jo； staring； “and the bonnet； and the
gownd。”
“Be quite sure of what you say； Tough；” returns Bucket；
narrowly observant of him。 “Look again。”
“I am a…looking as hard as ever I can look；” says Jo； with
starting eyes； “and that there’s the wale； the bonnet； and the
gownd。”
“What about those rings you told me of？” asks Bucket。
“A sparkling all over here；” says Jo； rubbing the fingers of his
left hand on the knuckles of his right； without taking his eyes from
the figure。
The figure removes the right hand glove； and shows the hand。
“Now； what do you say to that？” asks Bucket。 Jo shakes his
head。 “Not rings a bit like them。 Not a hand like that。”
“What are you talking of？” says Bucket； evidently pleased
though； and well pleased too。
“Hand was a deal whiter； a deal delicater and a deal smaller；”
returns Jo。
“Why； you’ll tell me I’m my own mother next；” says Mr Bucket。
“Do you recollect the lady’s voice？”
“I think I does；” says Jo。
The figure speaks。 “Was it at all like this。 I will speak as long as
you like if you are not sure。 Was it this voice； or at all like this
voice？”
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Jo looks aghast at Mr Bucket。 “Not a bit！”
“Then； what；” retorts that worthy； pointing to the figure； “did
you say it was the lady for？”
“Cos；” says Jo； with a perplexed stare； but without being at all
shaken in his certainty； “Cos that there’s the wale； the bonnet； and
the gownd。 It is her and it an’t her。 It an’t her hand； nor yet her
rings； nor yet her woice。 But that there’s the wale； the bonnet； and
the gownd； and they’re wore the same way wot she wore ’em； and
it’s her height what she was； and she give me a sov’ring and
hooked it。”
“Well！” says Mr Bucket； slightly； “we haven’t got much good
out of you。 But； however； here’s five shillings for you。 Take care
how you spend it； and don’t get yourself into trouble。” Bucket
stealthily tells the coins from one hand into the other like
counters—which is a way he has； his principal use of them being
in these games of skill—and then puts them； in a little pile； into the
boy’s hand； and takes him out to the door； leaving Mr Snagsby； not
by any means comfortable under these mysterious circumstances；
alone with the veiled figure。 But； on Mr Tulkinghorn’s coming into
the room； the veil is raised； and
