The Old Curiosity Shop / Лавка древностей

Quilp resided on Tower Hill[19 - Tower Hill – Тауэр-Хилл (небольшая возвышенная местность в Лондоне к северо-западу от Тауэра)]. Mr. Quilp’s occupations were numerous. He collected the rents of whole colonies of filthy streets and alleys by the water-side, advanced money to the seamen and petty officers of merchant vessels, and made appointments with men in glazed hats and round jackets[20 - round jackets – кургузые пиджаки] pretty well every day. On the southern side of the river was a small rat-infested[21 - rat-infested – кишащий крысами] dreary yard called “Quilp’s Wharf,” in which were a little wooden house.

There were nearby a few fragments of rusty anchors; several large iron rings; some piles of rotten wood; and two or three heaps of old sheet copper, crumpled, cracked, and battered. On Quilp’s Wharf, Daniel Quilp was a ship-breaker. The dwarfs lodging on Tower Hill had a sleeping-closet for Mrs. Quilp’s mother, who resided with the couple.

That day besides these ladies there were present some half-dozen ladies of the neighbourhood who had come just about tea-time.

The ladies felt an inclination to talk and linger.

A stout lady opened the inquired, with an air of great concern and sympathy, how Mr. Quilp was; whereunto Mr. Quilp’s wife’s mother replied sharply,

“Oh! He is well enough, ill weeds are sure to thrive[22 - ill weeds are sure to thrive – худой траве всё впрок].”

All the ladies then sighed in concert, shook their heads gravely, and looked at Mrs.

Quilp as at a martyr.

Poor Mrs. Quilp coloured, and smiled. Suddenly Daniel Quilp himself was observed to be in the room, looking on and listening with profound attention.

“Go on, ladies, go on,” said Daniel. “Mrs. Quilp, pray ask the ladies to stop to supper.”

“I didn’t ask them to tea, Quilp,” stammered his wife. “It’s quite an accident.”

“So much the better[23 - so much the better – тем лучше], Mrs. Quilp: these accidental parties are always the pleasantest,” said the dwarf, rubbing his hands very hard.

“What? Not going, ladies? You are not going, surely?”

“And why not stop to supper, Quilp,” said the old lady, “if my daughter had a mind? There’s nothing dishonest or wrong in a supper, I hope?”

“Surely not,” returned the dwarf. “Why should there be?”

“My daughter’s your wife, Mr. Quilp, certainly,” said the old lady.

“So she is, certainly. So she is,” observed the dwarf.