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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 280/820
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And
so
,
young
gentleman
,
’
he
added
,
after
a
few
moments
’
further
rubbing
of
his
chin
,
‘
that
you
may
not
consider
me
long
-
winded
as
well
as
short
-
breathed
,
I
believe
that
’
s
all
about
it
.
’
As
they
had
spoken
in
a
subdued
tone
,
while
speaking
of
Em
’
ly
,
I
had
no
doubt
that
she
was
near
.
On
my
asking
now
,
if
that
were
not
so
,
Mr
.
Omer
nodded
yes
,
and
nodded
towards
the
door
of
the
parlour
.
My
hurried
inquiry
if
I
might
peep
in
,
was
answered
with
a
free
permission
;
and
,
looking
through
the
glass
,
I
saw
her
sitting
at
her
work
.
I
saw
her
,
a
most
beautiful
little
creature
,
with
the
cloudless
blue
eyes
,
that
had
looked
into
my
childish
heart
,
turned
laughingly
upon
another
child
of
Minnie
’
s
who
was
playing
near
her
;
with
enough
of
wilfulness
in
her
bright
face
to
justify
what
I
had
heard
;
with
much
of
the
old
capricious
coyness
lurking
in
it
;
but
with
nothing
in
her
pretty
looks
,
I
am
sure
,
but
what
was
meant
for
goodness
and
for
happiness
,
and
what
was
on
a
good
and
happy
course
.
The
tune
across
the
yard
that
seemed
as
if
it
never
had
left
off
—
alas
!
it
was
the
tune
that
never
DOES
leave
off
—
was
beating
,
softly
,
all
the
while
.
‘
Wouldn
’
t
you
like
to
step
in
,
’
said
Mr
.
Omer
,
‘
and
speak
to
her
?
Walk
in
and
speak
to
her
,
sir
!
Make
yourself
at
home
!
’
I
was
too
bashful
to
do
so
then
—
I
was
afraid
of
confusing
her
,
and
I
was
no
less
afraid
of
confusing
myself
.
-
but
I
informed
myself
of
the
hour
at
which
she
left
of
an
evening
,
in
order
that
our
visit
might
be
timed
accordingly
;
and
taking
leave
of
Mr
.
Omer
,
and
his
pretty
daughter
,
and
her
little
children
,
went
away
to
my
dear
old
Peggotty
’
s
.
Here
she
was
,
in
the
tiled
kitchen
,
cooking
dinner
!
The
moment
I
knocked
at
the
door
she
opened
it
,
and
asked
me
what
I
pleased
to
want
.
I
looked
at
her
with
a
smile
,
but
she
gave
me
no
smile
in
return
.
I
had
never
ceased
to
write
to
her
,
but
it
must
have
been
seven
years
since
we
had
met
.
‘
Is
Mr
.
Barkis
at
home
,
ma
’
am
?
’
I
said
,
feigning
to
speak
roughly
to
her
.
‘
He
’
s
at
home
,
sir
,
’
returned
Peggotty
,
‘
but
he
’
s
bad
abed
with
the
rheumatics
.
’
‘
Don
’
t
he
go
over
to
Blunderstone
now
?
’
I
asked
.
