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- Чарльз Диккенс
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Strange
to
relate
,
Mr.
Gradgrind
was
not
so
collected
at
this
moment
as
his
daughter
was
.
He
took
a
paper-knife
in
his
hand
,
turned
it
over
,
laid
it
down
,
took
it
up
again
,
and
even
then
had
to
look
along
the
blade
of
it
,
considering
how
to
go
on
.
'
What
you
say
,
my
dear
Louisa
,
is
perfectly
reasonable
.
I
have
undertaken
then
to
let
you
know
that
--
in
short
,
that
Mr.
Bounderby
has
informed
me
that
he
has
long
watched
your
progress
with
particular
interest
and
pleasure
,
and
has
long
hoped
that
the
time
might
ultimately
arrive
when
he
should
offer
you
his
hand
in
marriage
.
That
time
,
to
which
he
has
so
long
,
and
certainly
with
great
constancy
,
looked
forward
,
is
now
come
.
Mr.
Bounderby
has
made
his
proposal
of
marriage
to
me
,
and
has
entreated
me
to
make
it
known
to
you
,
and
to
express
his
hope
that
you
will
take
it
into
your
favourable
consideration
.
'
Silence
between
them
.
The
deadly
statistical
clock
very
hollow
.
The
distant
smoke
very
black
and
heavy
.
'
Father
,
'
said
Louisa
,
'
do
you
think
I
love
Mr.
Bounderby
?
'
Mr.
Gradgrind
was
extremely
discomfited
by
this
unexpected
question
.
'
Well
,
my
child
,
'
he
returned
,
'
I
--
really
--
can
not
take
upon
myself
to
say
.
'
'
Father
,
'
pursued
Louisa
in
exactly
the
same
voice
as
before
,
'
do
you
ask
me
to
love
Mr.
Bounderby
?
'
'
My
dear
Louisa
,
no
.
No
.
I
ask
nothing
.
'
'
Father
,
'
she
still
pursued
,
'
does
Mr.
Bounderby
ask
me
to
love
him
?
'
'
Really
,
my
dear
,
'
said
Mr.
Gradgrind
,
'
it
is
difficult
to
answer
your
question
--
'
