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- Чарльз Диккенс
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'
Was
it
an
unequal
marriage
,
sir
,
in
point
of
years
?
'
asked
Mrs.
Sparsit
.
'
You
hear
what
this
lady
asks
.
Was
it
an
unequal
marriage
in
point
of
years
,
this
unlucky
job
of
yours
?
'
said
Mr.
Bounderby
.
'
Not
e
'
en
so
.
I
were
one-and-twenty
myseln
;
she
were
twenty
nighbut
.
'
'
Indeed
,
sir
?
'
said
Mrs.
Sparsit
to
her
Chief
,
with
great
placidity
.
'
I
inferred
,
from
its
being
so
miserable
a
marriage
,
that
it
was
probably
an
unequal
one
in
point
of
years
.
'
Mr.
Bounderby
looked
very
hard
at
the
good
lady
in
a
side-long
way
that
had
an
odd
sheepishness
about
it
.
He
fortified
himself
with
a
little
more
sherry
.
'
Well
?
Why
do
n't
you
go
on
?
'
he
then
asked
,
turning
rather
irritably
on
Stephen
Blackpool
.
'
I
ha
'
coom
to
ask
yo
,
sir
,
how
I
am
to
be
ridded
o
'
this
woman
.
'
Stephen
infused
a
yet
deeper
gravity
into
the
mixed
expression
of
his
attentive
face
.
Mrs.
Sparsit
uttered
a
gentle
ejaculation
,
as
having
received
a
moral
shock
.
'
What
do
you
mean
?
'
said
Bounderby
,
getting
up
to
lean
his
back
against
the
chimney-piece
.
'
What
are
you
talking
about
?
You
took
her
for
better
for
worse
.
'
'
I
mun
'
be
ridden
o
'
her
.
I
can
not
bear
'
t
nommore
.
I
ha
'
lived
under
'
t
so
long
,
for
that
I
ha
'
had
'n
the
pity
and
comforting
words
o
'
th
'
best
lass
living
or
dead
.
Haply
,
but
for
her
,
I
should
ha
'
gone
battering
mad
.
'
