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continued descriptions of an increasingly hyperbolic nature would be
insufferably repetitious. Suffice it to say that there was room on the hangar
floor for not only Darcy s country home of Pemberley but also Rosings,
Netherfieldand Longbourn as well. They had all been hoisted from the book by a
massive overhead crane so the empty husk of the novel could be checked for
fatigue cracks before being fumigated for nesting grammasites and then
repainted. At the same time, an army of technicians, plasterers, painters,
carpenters and so forth were crawling over the houses, locations, props,
furnishings and costumes, all of which had been removed for checking and
maintenance.
 If this isPride and Prejudice,  said Thursday5 as we walked toward the
Bennets property of Longbourn,  then what are people reading in the Outland?
The house was resting incongruously on wooden blocks laid on the hangar floor
but without its grounds they were elsewhere being tended to by a happy buzz of
gardeners.
 We divert the readings to a lesser copy on a standby Storycode Engine, and
people read that, I replied, nodding a greeting to the various technicians
who were trying to make good the damage wrought by the last million readings
or so.  The book is neverquite as good, but the only people who might see a
difference are the Austen enthusiasts and scholars. They would notice the
slight dulling and lack of vitality, but, unable to come to a satisfactory
answer as to why this might be so, they will simply blame themselves a reading
later in the week will once again renew their confidence in the magnificence
of the novel.
We stepped inside the main doorway of Longbourn, where a similar repair gang
was working on the interior. They had only just gotten started, and from here
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it was easier to see the extent of the corrosion. The paintwork was dull and
lifeless, the wallpaper hung off the wall in long strips, and the marble
fireplace was stained and darkened by smoke. Everything we looked at seemed
tired and worn.
 Oh, mercy! came a voice behind us, and we turned to find Mrs. Bennet
dressed in a threadbare poke bonnet and shawl. Following her was a
construction manager, and behind him was Mr. Bennet.
 This willnever be ready in time, she lamented, looking around the parlor of
her house unhappily,  and every second not spent looking for husbands is a
second wasted.
 My dear, you must come and have your wardrobe replaced, implored Mr.
Bennet.  You arequite in tatters and unsuited for being read, let alone
receiving gentlemen potential husbands or otherwise.
 He s quite right, urged the manager.  It is only a refit, nothing more; we
will have you back on the shelf in a few days.
 On the shelf? she shrieked.  Like my daughters?
And she was about to burst into tears when she suddenly caught sight of me.
 You there! Do you have a single brother in possession of a good fortune who
is in want of a wife?
 I m afraid not, I replied, thinking of Joffy, who failed on all three
counts.
 Are you sure? I ve a choice of five daughters; one of themmust be
suitable although I have my doubts about Mary being acceptable to anyone.
Ahhhhh!
She had started to scream.
 Good lady, calm yourself! cried Mr. Bennet.  What ever is the matter?
 My nerves are so bad I am now seeing double!
 You arenot, madam, I told her hastily.  This is my& twin sister.
At that moment a small phalanx of seamstresses came in holding a replacement
costume. Mrs. Bennet made another sharp cry and ran off upstairs, quickly
followed by the wardrobe department, who would doubtless have to hold her down
and undress her like the last time.
 I ll leave it in your capable hands, said Mr. Bennet to the wardrobe
mistress.  I am going to my library and don t wish to be disturbed.
He opened the door and found to his dismay that it, too, was being rebuilt.
Large portions of the wall were missing, and plasterers were attempting to
fill the gaps to the room beyond. There was the flickering light of an arc
welder and a shower of sparks. He harrumphed, shrugged, gave us a wan smile
and walked out.
 Quite a lot of damage, I said to the construction manager, whose name we
learned was Sid.
 We get a lot of this in the classics, he said with a shrug.  This is the
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thirdP2 refit I ve done in the past fifteen years but it s not as bad as
theLord of the Rings trilogy; those things arealways in for maintenance. The
fantasy readership really gives it a hammering and the fan fiction doesn t
help neither.
 The name s Thursday Next, I told him,  from Jurisfiction. I need to speak
to Isambard.
He led us outside to where the five Bennet sisters were running through their
lines with a wordsmith holding a script.
 But you are not entitled to know mine; nor will such behavior ever induce me
to be explicit, said Elizabeth.
 Notquite right, replied the wordsmith as she consulted the script.  You
dropped the  as this, from the middle of the sentence.
 I did? queried Lizzie, craning over to look at the script.  Where?
 It still soundedperfect to me, said Jane good-naturedly.
 This is all just soboring,  muttered Lydia, tapping her foot impatiently
and looking around. Wisely, the maintenance staff had separated the soldiers
and especially Wickham from Kitty and Lydia for their own protection, if not
the soldiers .
 Lydia dearest, doplease concentrate, said Mary, looking up from the book
she was reading.  It is for your own good.
 Ms. Next! came an authoritarian voice that I knew I could ignore only at my
peril.
 Your ladyship, I said, curtsying neatly to a tall woman bedecked in dark
crinolines. She had strongly marked features that might once have been
handsome but now appeared haughty and superior.
 May I present Cadet Next? I said.  Thursday5, this is the Right Honorable
Lady Catherine de Bourgh, widow of Sir Lewis de Bourgh.
Thursday5 was about to say something, but I caught her eye and she curtsied
instead, which Lady Catherine returned with a slight incline of her head.
 I must speak to you, Ms. Next, continued her ladyship, taking my arm to
walk with me,  upon a matter of considerable concern. As you know, I have a
daughter named Anne, who is unfortunately of a sickly constitution, which has
prevented her from making accomplishments she otherwise could not have failed.
If good health had been hers, she would have joined Jurisfiction many years
ago and about now would begin to accrue the benefits of her age, wisdom and
experience.
 Doubtless, your ladyship.
Lady Catherine gave a polite smile.  Then we are agreed. Miss Anne should
join Jurisfiction on the morrow with a rank, salary and duties commensurate
with the standing that her ill health has taken from her shall we say five
thousand guineas a year and light work only with mornings off and three
servants? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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