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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 300/820
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‘
Miss
Mowcher
!
’
I
looked
at
the
doorway
and
saw
nothing
.
I
was
still
looking
at
the
doorway
,
thinking
that
Miss
Mowcher
was
a
long
while
making
her
appearance
,
when
,
to
my
infinite
astonishment
,
there
came
waddling
round
a
sofa
which
stood
between
me
and
it
,
a
pursy
dwarf
,
of
about
forty
or
forty
-
five
,
with
a
very
large
head
and
face
,
a
pair
of
roguish
grey
eyes
,
and
such
extremely
little
arms
,
that
,
to
enable
herself
to
lay
a
finger
archly
against
her
snub
nose
,
as
she
ogled
Steerforth
,
she
was
obliged
to
meet
the
finger
half
-
way
,
and
lay
her
nose
against
it
.
Her
chin
,
which
was
what
is
called
a
double
chin
,
was
so
fat
that
it
entirely
swallowed
up
the
strings
of
her
bonnet
,
bow
and
all
.
Throat
she
had
none
;
waist
she
had
none
;
legs
she
had
none
,
worth
mentioning
;
for
though
she
was
more
than
full
-
sized
down
to
where
her
waist
would
have
been
,
if
she
had
had
any
,
and
though
she
terminated
,
as
human
beings
generally
do
,
in
a
pair
of
feet
,
she
was
so
short
that
she
stood
at
a
common
-
sized
chair
as
at
a
table
,
resting
a
bag
she
carried
on
the
seat
.
This
lady
—
dressed
in
an
off
-
hand
,
easy
style
;
bringing
her
nose
and
her
forefinger
together
,
with
the
difficulty
I
have
described
;
standing
with
her
head
necessarily
on
one
side
,
and
,
with
one
of
her
sharp
eyes
shut
up
,
making
an
uncommonly
knowing
face
—
after
ogling
Steerforth
for
a
few
moments
,
broke
into
a
torrent
of
words
.
‘
What
!
My
flower
!
’
she
pleasantly
began
,
shaking
her
large
head
at
him
.
‘
You
’
re
there
,
are
you
!
Oh
,
you
naughty
boy
,
fie
for
shame
,
what
do
you
do
so
far
away
from
home
?
Up
to
mischief
,
I
’
ll
be
bound
.
Oh
,
you
’
re
a
downy
fellow
,
Steerforth
,
so
you
are
,
and
I
’
m
another
,
ain
’
t
I
?
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
!
You
’
d
have
betted
a
hundred
pound
to
five
,
now
,
that
you
wouldn
’
t
have
seen
me
here
,
wouldn
’
t
you
?
Bless
you
,
man
alive
,
I
’
m
everywhere
.
I
’
m
here
and
there
,
and
where
not
,
like
the
conjurer
’
s
half
-
crown
in
the
lady
’
s
handkercher
.
Talking
of
handkerchers
—
and
talking
of
ladies
—
what
a
comfort
you
are
to
your
blessed
mother
,
ain
’
t
you
,
my
dear
boy
,
over
one
of
my
shoulders
,
and
I
don
’
t
say
which
!
’
Miss
Mowcher
untied
her
bonnet
,
at
this
passage
of
her
discourse
,
threw
back
the
strings
,
and
sat
down
,
panting
,
on
a
footstool
in
front
of
the
fire
—
making
a
kind
of
arbour
of
the
dining
table
,
which
spread
its
mahogany
shelter
above
her
head
.
‘
Oh
my
stars
and
what
’
s
-
their
-
names
!
’
she
went
on
,
clapping
a
hand
on
each
of
her
little
knees
,
and
glancing
shrewdly
at
me
,
‘
I
’
m
of
too
full
a
habit
,
that
’
s
the
fact
,
Steerforth
.
After
a
flight
of
stairs
,
it
gives
me
as
much
trouble
to
draw
every
breath
I
want
,
as
if
it
was
a
bucket
of
water
.
If
you
saw
me
looking
out
of
an
upper
window
,
you
’
d
think
I
was
a
fine
woman
,
wouldn
’
t
you
?
’
‘
I
should
think
that
,
wherever
I
saw
you
,
’
replied
Steerforth
.
‘
Go
along
,
you
dog
,
do
!
’
cried
the
little
creature
,
making
a
whisk
at
him
with
the
handkerchief
with
which
she
was
wiping
her
face
,
‘
and
don
’
t
be
impudent
!
But
I
give
you
my
word
and
honour
I
was
at
Lady
Mithers
’
s
last
week
—
THERE
’
S
a
woman
!
How
SHE
wears
!
—
and
Mithers
himself
came
into
the
room
where
I
was
waiting
for
her
—
THERE
’
S
a
man
!
How
HE
wears
!
and
his
wig
too
,
for
he
’
s
had
it
these
ten
years
—
and
he
went
on
at
that
rate
in
the
complimentary
line
,
that
I
began
to
think
I
should
be
obliged
to
ring
the
bell
.
Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
He
’
s
a
pleasant
wretch
,
but
he
wants
principle
.
’
