domingo, 11 de setembro de 2011

Green Tea

"Well, he was writing a book, as you say; I'm not quite sure what it was about, but only that it was nothing that I cared for; very likely you are right, and he certainly did stop — yes."

"And although he only drank a little coffee here tonight, he likes tea, at least, did like it extravagantly."

"Yes, that's quite true."

"He drank green tea, a good deal, didn't he?" I pursued.

"Well, that's very odd! Green tea was a subject on which we used almost to quarrel."

"But he has quite given that up," said I. "So he has."

"And, now, one more fact. His mother or his father, did you know them?"

"Yes, both; his father is only ten years dead, and their place is near Dawlbridge. We knew them very well", she answered.

"Well, either his mother or his father — I should rather think his father, saw a ghost," said I.

"Well, you really are a conjurer, Dr. Hesselius."

"Conjurer or no, haven't I said right?" I answered merrily.

"You certainly have, and it was his father: he was a silent, whimsical man, and he used to bore my father about his dreams, and at last he told him a story about a ghost he had seen and talked with, and a very odd story it was. I remember it particularly, because I was so afraid of him. This story was long before he died — when I was quite a child — and his ways were so silent and moping, and he used to drop in sometimes, in the dusk, when I was alone in the drawing room, and I used to fancy there were ghosts about him."

I smiled and nodded.

"And now, having established my character as a conjurer, I think I must say good night!" said I.

"But how did you find it out?"

"By the planets, of course, as the gypsies do", I answered, and so, gaily we said good night.


Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, In a Glass Darkly, 1872. Lembro-me de passar longas noites com estas histórias, haxixe e um jarro de chá, nem vivalma por muito tempo, ninguém à espera, nada que fazer no dia seguinte. Citação propositadamente insulsa de um bom livro, enfim.