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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 305/820
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‘
It
looks
like
it
.
However
,
mad
or
sane
,
he
tried
,
’
returned
Miss
Mowcher
.
‘
What
does
he
do
,
but
,
lo
and
behold
you
,
he
goes
into
a
perfumer
’
s
shop
,
and
wants
to
buy
a
bottle
of
the
Madagascar
Liquid
.
’
‘
Charley
does
?
’
said
Steerforth
.
‘
Charley
does
.
But
they
haven
’
t
got
any
of
the
Madagascar
Liquid
.
’
‘
What
is
it
?
Something
to
drink
?
’
asked
Steerforth
.
‘
To
drink
?
’
returned
Miss
Mowcher
,
stopping
to
slap
his
cheek
.
‘
To
doctor
his
own
moustachios
with
,
you
know
.
There
was
a
woman
in
the
shop
—
elderly
female
—
quite
a
Griffin
—
who
had
never
even
heard
of
it
by
name
.
“
Begging
pardon
,
sir
,
”
said
the
Griffin
to
Charley
,
“
it
’
s
not
—
not
—
not
ROUGE
,
is
it
?
”
“
Rouge
,
”
said
Charley
to
the
Griffin
.
“
What
the
unmentionable
to
ears
polite
,
do
you
think
I
want
with
rouge
?
”
“
No
offence
,
sir
,
”
said
the
Griffin
;
“
we
have
it
asked
for
by
so
many
names
,
I
thought
it
might
be
.
”
Now
that
,
my
child
,
’
continued
Miss
Mowcher
,
rubbing
all
the
time
as
busily
as
ever
,
‘
is
another
instance
of
the
refreshing
humbug
I
was
speaking
of
.
I
do
something
in
that
way
myself
—
perhaps
a
good
deal
—
perhaps
a
little
—
sharp
’
s
the
word
,
my
dear
boy
—
never
mind
!
’
‘
In
what
way
do
you
mean
?
In
the
rouge
way
?
’
said
Steerforth
.
‘
Put
this
and
that
together
,
my
tender
pupil
,
’
returned
the
wary
Mowcher
,
touching
her
nose
,
‘
work
it
by
the
rule
of
Secrets
in
all
trades
,
and
the
product
will
give
you
the
desired
result
.
I
say
I
do
a
little
in
that
way
myself
.
One
Dowager
,
SHE
calls
it
lip
-
salve
.
Another
,
SHE
calls
it
gloves
.
Another
,
SHE
calls
it
tucker
-
edging
.
Another
,
SHE
calls
it
a
fan
.
I
call
it
whatever
THEY
call
it
.
I
supply
it
for
‘
em
,
but
we
keep
up
the
trick
so
,
to
one
another
,
and
make
believe
with
such
a
face
,
that
they
’
d
as
soon
think
of
laying
it
on
,
before
a
whole
drawing
-
room
,
as
before
me
.
And
when
I
wait
upon
‘
em
,
they
’
ll
say
to
me
sometimes
—
WITH
IT
ON
-
thick
,
and
no
mistake
—
“
How
am
I
looking
,
Mowcher
?
Am
I
pale
?
”
Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
Isn
’
t
THAT
refreshing
,
my
young
friend
!
’
I
never
did
in
my
days
behold
anything
like
Mowcher
as
she
stood
upon
the
dining
table
,
intensely
enjoying
this
refreshment
,
rubbing
busily
at
Steerforth
’
s
head
,
and
winking
at
me
over
it
.
‘
Ah
!
’
she
said
.
‘
Such
things
are
not
much
in
demand
hereabouts
.
That
sets
me
off
again
!
I
haven
’
t
seen
a
pretty
woman
since
I
’
ve
been
here
,
jemmy
.
’
‘
No
?
’
said
Steerforth
.
