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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 211/820
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My
mind
ran
upon
what
they
would
think
,
if
they
knew
of
my
familiar
acquaintance
with
the
King
’
s
Bench
Prison
?
Was
there
anything
about
me
which
would
reveal
my
proceedings
in
connexion
with
the
Micawber
family
—
all
those
pawnings
,
and
sellings
,
and
suppers
—
in
spite
of
myself
?
Suppose
some
of
the
boys
had
seen
me
coming
through
Canterbury
,
wayworn
and
ragged
,
and
should
find
me
out
?
What
would
they
say
,
who
made
so
light
of
money
,
if
they
could
know
how
I
had
scraped
my
halfpence
together
,
for
the
purchase
of
my
daily
saveloy
and
beer
,
or
my
slices
of
pudding
?
How
would
it
affect
them
,
who
were
so
innocent
of
London
life
,
and
London
streets
,
to
discover
how
knowing
I
was
(
and
was
ashamed
to
be
)
in
some
of
the
meanest
phases
of
both
?
All
this
ran
in
my
head
so
much
,
on
that
first
day
at
Doctor
Strong
’
s
,
that
I
felt
distrustful
of
my
slightest
look
and
gesture
;
shrunk
within
myself
whensoever
I
was
approached
by
one
of
my
new
schoolfellows
;
and
hurried
off
the
minute
school
was
over
,
afraid
of
committing
myself
in
my
response
to
any
friendly
notice
or
advance
.
But
there
was
such
an
influence
in
Mr
.
Wickfield
’
s
old
house
,
that
when
I
knocked
at
it
,
with
my
new
school
-
books
under
my
arm
,
I
began
to
feel
my
uneasiness
softening
away
.
As
I
went
up
to
my
airy
old
room
,
the
grave
shadow
of
the
staircase
seemed
to
fall
upon
my
doubts
and
fears
,
and
to
make
the
past
more
indistinct
.
I
sat
there
,
sturdily
conning
my
books
,
until
dinner
-
time
(
we
were
out
of
school
for
good
at
three
)
;
and
went
down
,
hopeful
of
becoming
a
passable
sort
of
boy
yet
.
Agnes
was
in
the
drawing
-
room
,
waiting
for
her
father
,
who
was
detained
by
someone
in
his
office
.
She
met
me
with
her
pleasant
smile
,
and
asked
me
how
I
liked
the
school
.
I
told
her
I
should
like
it
very
much
,
I
hoped
;
but
I
was
a
little
strange
to
it
at
first
.
‘
You
have
never
been
to
school
,
’
I
said
,
‘
have
you
?
’
‘
Oh
yes
!
Every
day
.
’
‘
Ah
,
but
you
mean
here
,
at
your
own
home
?
’
‘
Papa
couldn
’
t
spare
me
to
go
anywhere
else
,
’
she
answered
,
smiling
and
shaking
her
head
.
‘
His
housekeeper
must
be
in
his
house
,
you
know
.
’
‘
He
is
very
fond
of
you
,
I
am
sure
,
’
I
said
.
She
nodded
‘
Yes
,
’
and
went
to
the
door
to
listen
for
his
coming
up
,
that
she
might
meet
him
on
the
stairs
.
But
,
as
he
was
not
there
,
she
came
back
again
.
‘
Mama
has
been
dead
ever
since
I
was
born
,
’
she
said
,
in
her
quiet
way
.
‘
I
only
know
her
picture
,
downstairs
.
I
saw
you
looking
at
it
yesterday
.
Did
you
think
whose
it
was
?
’
I
told
her
yes
,
because
it
was
so
like
herself
.
