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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 315/820
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When
I
awoke
in
the
morning
I
thought
very
much
of
little
Em
’
ly
,
and
her
emotion
last
night
,
after
Martha
had
left
.
I
felt
as
if
I
had
come
into
the
knowledge
of
those
domestic
weaknesses
and
tendernesses
in
a
sacred
confidence
,
and
that
to
disclose
them
,
even
to
Steerforth
,
would
be
wrong
.
I
had
no
gentler
feeling
towards
anyone
than
towards
the
pretty
creature
who
had
been
my
playmate
,
and
whom
I
have
always
been
persuaded
,
and
shall
always
be
persuaded
,
to
my
dying
day
,
I
then
devotedly
loved
.
The
repetition
to
any
ears
—
even
to
Steerforth
’
s
—
of
what
she
had
been
unable
to
repress
when
her
heart
lay
open
to
me
by
an
accident
,
I
felt
would
be
a
rough
deed
,
unworthy
of
myself
,
unworthy
of
the
light
of
our
pure
childhood
,
which
I
always
saw
encircling
her
head
.
I
made
a
resolution
,
therefore
,
to
keep
it
in
my
own
breast
;
and
there
it
gave
her
image
a
new
grace
.
While
we
were
at
breakfast
,
a
letter
was
delivered
to
me
from
my
aunt
.
As
it
contained
matter
on
which
I
thought
Steerforth
could
advise
me
as
well
as
anyone
,
and
on
which
I
knew
I
should
be
delighted
to
consult
him
,
I
resolved
to
make
it
a
subject
of
discussion
on
our
journey
home
.
For
the
present
we
had
enough
to
do
,
in
taking
leave
of
all
our
friends
.
Mr
.
Barkis
was
far
from
being
the
last
among
them
,
in
his
regret
at
our
departure
;
and
I
believe
would
even
have
opened
the
box
again
,
and
sacrificed
another
guinea
,
if
it
would
have
kept
us
eight
-
and
-
forty
hours
in
Yarmouth
.
Peggotty
and
all
her
family
were
full
of
grief
at
our
going
.
The
whole
house
of
Omer
and
Joram
turned
out
to
bid
us
good
-
bye
;
and
there
were
so
many
seafaring
volunteers
in
attendance
on
Steerforth
,
when
our
portmanteaux
went
to
the
coach
,
that
if
we
had
had
the
baggage
of
a
regiment
with
us
,
we
should
hardly
have
wanted
porters
to
carry
it
.
In
a
word
,
we
departed
to
the
regret
and
admiration
of
all
concerned
,
and
left
a
great
many
people
very
sorry
behind
US
.
Do
you
stay
long
here
,
Littimer
?
’
said
I
,
as
he
stood
waiting
to
see
the
coach
start
.
‘
No
,
sir
,
’
he
replied
;
‘
probably
not
very
long
,
sir
.
’
‘
He
can
hardly
say
,
just
now
,
’
observed
Steerforth
,
carelessly
.
‘
He
knows
what
he
has
to
do
,
and
he
’
ll
do
it
.
’
‘
That
I
am
sure
he
will
,
’
said
I
.
Littimer
touched
his
hat
in
acknowledgement
of
my
good
opinion
,
and
I
felt
about
eight
years
old
.
He
touched
it
once
more
,
wishing
us
a
good
journey
;
and
we
left
him
standing
on
the
pavement
,
as
respectable
a
mystery
as
any
pyramid
in
Egypt
.
For
some
little
time
we
held
no
conversation
,
Steerforth
being
unusually
silent
,
and
I
being
sufficiently
engaged
in
wondering
,
within
myself
,
when
I
should
see
the
old
places
again
,
and
what
new
changes
might
happen
to
me
or
them
in
the
meanwhile
.
At
length
Steerforth
,
becoming
gay
and
talkative
in
a
moment
,
as
he
could
become
anything
he
liked
at
any
moment
,
pulled
me
by
the
arm
:
‘
Find
a
voice
,
David
.
