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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 321/820
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She
stopped
for
a
moment
to
take
my
hand
between
hers
,
and
went
on
:
‘
It
’
s
in
vain
,
Trot
,
to
recall
the
past
,
unless
it
works
some
influence
upon
the
present
.
Perhaps
I
might
have
been
better
friends
with
your
poor
father
.
Perhaps
I
might
have
been
better
friends
with
that
poor
child
your
mother
,
even
after
your
sister
Betsey
Trotwood
disappointed
me
.
When
you
came
to
me
,
a
little
runaway
boy
,
all
dusty
and
way
-
worn
,
perhaps
I
thought
so
.
From
that
time
until
now
,
Trot
,
you
have
ever
been
a
credit
to
me
and
a
pride
and
a
pleasure
.
I
have
no
other
claim
upon
my
means
;
at
least
’
—
here
to
my
surprise
she
hesitated
,
and
was
confused
—
‘
no
,
I
have
no
other
claim
upon
my
means
—
and
you
are
my
adopted
child
.
Only
be
a
loving
child
to
me
in
my
age
,
and
bear
with
my
whims
and
fancies
;
and
you
will
do
more
for
an
old
woman
whose
prime
of
life
was
not
so
happy
or
conciliating
as
it
might
have
been
,
than
ever
that
old
woman
did
for
you
.
’
It
was
the
first
time
I
had
heard
my
aunt
refer
to
her
past
history
.
There
was
a
magnanimity
in
her
quiet
way
of
doing
so
,
and
of
dismissing
it
,
which
would
have
exalted
her
in
my
respect
and
affection
,
if
anything
could
.
‘
All
is
agreed
and
understood
between
us
,
now
,
Trot
,
’
said
my
aunt
,
‘
and
we
need
talk
of
this
no
more
.
Give
me
a
kiss
,
and
we
’
ll
go
to
the
Commons
after
breakfast
tomorrow
.
’
We
had
a
long
chat
by
the
fire
before
we
went
to
bed
.
I
slept
in
a
room
on
the
same
floor
with
my
aunt
’
s
,
and
was
a
little
disturbed
in
the
course
of
the
night
by
her
knocking
at
my
door
as
often
as
she
was
agitated
by
a
distant
sound
of
hackney
-
coaches
or
market
-
carts
,
and
inquiring
,
‘
if
I
heard
the
engines
?
’
But
towards
morning
she
slept
better
,
and
suffered
me
to
do
so
too
.
At
about
mid
-
day
,
we
set
out
for
the
office
of
Messrs
Spenlow
and
Jorkins
,
in
Doctors
’
Commons
.
My
aunt
,
who
had
this
other
general
opinion
in
reference
to
London
,
that
every
man
she
saw
was
a
pickpocket
,
gave
me
her
purse
to
carry
for
her
,
which
had
ten
guineas
in
it
and
some
silver
.
We
made
a
pause
at
the
toy
shop
in
Fleet
Street
,
to
see
the
giants
of
Saint
Dunstan
’
s
strike
upon
the
bells
—
we
had
timed
our
going
,
so
as
to
catch
them
at
it
,
at
twelve
o
’
clock
—
and
then
went
on
towards
Ludgate
Hill
,
and
St
.
Paul
’
s
Churchyard
.
We
were
crossing
to
the
former
place
,
when
I
found
that
my
aunt
greatly
accelerated
her
speed
,
and
looked
frightened
.
I
observed
,
at
the
same
time
,
that
a
lowering
ill
-
dressed
man
who
had
stopped
and
stared
at
us
in
passing
,
a
little
before
,
was
coming
so
close
after
us
as
to
brush
against
her
.
‘
Trot
!
My
dear
Trot
!
’
cried
my
aunt
,
in
a
terrified
whisper
,
and
pressing
my
arm
.
‘
I
don
’
t
know
what
I
am
to
do
.
’
‘
Don
’
t
be
alarmed
,
’
said
I
.
‘
There
’
s
nothing
to
be
afraid
of
.
Step
into
a
shop
,
and
I
’
ll
soon
get
rid
of
this
fellow
.
’
