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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 246/820
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‘
I
ask
an
inestimable
price
for
it
,
Miss
Larkins
.
’
‘
Indeed
!
What
is
that
?
’
returns
Miss
Larkins
.
‘
A
flower
of
yours
,
that
I
may
treasure
it
as
a
miser
does
gold
.
’
‘
You
’
re
a
bold
boy
,
’
says
Miss
Larkins
.
‘
There
.
’
She
gives
it
me
,
not
displeased
;
and
I
put
it
to
my
lips
,
and
then
into
my
breast
.
Miss
Larkins
,
laughing
,
draws
her
hand
through
my
arm
,
and
says
,
‘
Now
take
me
back
to
Captain
Bailey
.
’
I
am
lost
in
the
recollection
of
this
delicious
interview
,
and
the
waltz
,
when
she
comes
to
me
again
,
with
a
plain
elderly
gentleman
who
has
been
playing
whist
all
night
,
upon
her
arm
,
and
says
:
‘
Oh
!
here
is
my
bold
friend
!
Mr
.
Chestle
wants
to
know
you
,
Mr
.
Copperfield
.
’
I
feel
at
once
that
he
is
a
friend
of
the
family
,
and
am
much
gratified
.
‘
I
admire
your
taste
,
sir
,
’
says
Mr
.
Chestle
.
‘
It
does
you
credit
.
I
suppose
you
don
’
t
take
much
interest
in
hops
;
but
I
am
a
pretty
large
grower
myself
;
and
if
you
ever
like
to
come
over
to
our
neighbourhood
—
neighbourhood
of
Ashford
—
and
take
a
run
about
our
place
,
—
we
shall
be
glad
for
you
to
stop
as
long
as
you
like
.
’
