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远大前程_(英)查尔斯·狄更斯著;王科一译(Chapter13) 第(3/5)页

Hewashighlypopular, ’sbusiness, , , andinhissettlinghishatalittleeasieronhisheadwithbothhands, andthentighteningthepost-office, , therewasadifficultyrespectingtheraisingoffees, , backingasfaraspossiblefromtheinsufficientmoneyproduced, said, “it’snouse, myboy.I’’’, myboy, youhadbetteraddressyourselftoaprincipal; thereareplentyofprincipalsintheprofession, youknow, andwhatisnotworththewhileofone, maybeworththewhileofanother; that’smyrecommendationtoyou, ’? Now, who’snext?”

Thus, wewalkedthroughWemmick’sgreenhouse, untilheturnedtomeandsaid, “NoticethemanIshallshakehandswith.” Ishouldhavedoneso, withoutthepreparation, ashehadshakenhandswithnooneyet.

Almostassoonashehadspoken, aportlyuprightman (whomIcanseenow, asIwrite) inawell-wornolive-coloredfrock-coat, withapeculiarpalloroverspreadingtheredinhiscomplexion, andeyesthatwentwanderingaboutwhenhetriedtofixthem, cameuptoacornerofthebars, andputhishandtohishat—whichhadagreasyandfattysurfacelikecoldbroth—withahalf-seriousandhalf-jocosemilitarysalute.

“Colonel, toyou!” saidWemmick; “howareyou, Colonel?”

“Allright, .”

“Everythingwasdonethatcouldbedone, buttheevidencewastoostrongforus, Colonel.”

“Yes, itwastoostrong, sir—butIdon’tcare.”

“No, no,” saidWemmick, coolly, “youdon’tcare.” Then, turningtome, “.”

Isaid, “Indeed?” andtheman’seyeslookedatme, andthenlookedovermyhead, andthenlookedallroundme, andthenhedrewhishandacrosshislipsandlaughed.

“IthinkIshallbeoutofthisonMonday, sir,” hesaidtoWemmick.


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