John Howard Reid: Edwin Drood; A Comic Conclusion in the Dickensian Spirit!

Отправлено 16 сент. 2013 г., 10:32 пользователем Sven Karsten   [ обновлено 16 сент. 2013 г., 10:48 ]

CHAP­TER XLVI
A GRIT­TI­ER STATE OF THINGS

“It’s no fun being buried alive,” re­marked Edwin, step­ping into the lamp­light.

If Edwin Drood ex­pect­ed Mr Sapsea to be star­tled out of his wits by his seem­ing­ly spec­tral re-ap­pear­ance, he was sore­ly dis­ap­point­ed. Nei­ther ghosts nor ghosties in­spired much in the way of fear in the mayor’s self-cen­tered breast. Be­sides, all his nat­u­ral in­stincts told him that Edwin was no vis­i­tor from a ghoul­ish un­der­world. Hadn’t he him­self pro­claimed loud and long to an ad­mir­ing Clois­ter­ham that Edwin Drood’s sud­den dis­ap­pear­ance was no mys­tery, but sim­ply the case of a un­tried youth who’d changed his hasti­ly-formed mat­ri­mo­ni­al mind? (In point of fact, to Edwin’s mind, he had sur­vived in­car­cer­a­tion and at­tempt­ed suf­fo­ca­tion sim­ply be­cause the mayor’s os­ten­si­ble friend, Jasper, had proved such a poor hand at smoth­er­ing and chalk throw­ing. Never trust an opium ad­dict).

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