第23章
关灯
小
中
大
hhistribetoo.
“Whatnow?Areyouasubjectforthemadhospital?”saidthe
wine-shopkeeper,crossingtheroad,andobliteratingthejestwith
CharlesDickensElecBookClassics
ahandfulofmud,pickedupforthepurpose,andsmearedoverit.
“Whydoyouwriteinthepublicstreets?Istheretellmethouis
therenootherplacetowritesuchwordsin?”
Inhisexpostulationhedroppedhiscleanerhand(perhaps
accidentally,perhapsnot)uponthejoker’sheart.Thejoker
rappeditwithhisown,tookanimblespringupward,andcame
downinafantasticdancingattitude,withoneofhisstainedshoes
jerkedoffhisfootintohishand,andheldout.Ajokerofan
extremely,nottosaywolfishlypracticalcharacter,helooked,
underthosecircumstances.
“Putiton,putiton,”saidtheother.“Callwine,wineandfinish
there.”Withthatadvice,hewipedhissoiledhanduponthejoker’s
dress,suchasitwasquitedeliberately,ashavingdirtiedthe