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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 327/820
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‘
Is
it
the
last
occupant
’
s
furniture
?
’
inquired
my
aunt
.
‘
Yes
,
it
is
,
ma
’
am
,
’
said
Mrs
.
Crupp
.
‘
What
’
s
become
of
him
?
’
asked
my
aunt
.
Mrs
.
Crupp
was
taken
with
a
troublesome
cough
,
in
the
midst
of
which
she
articulated
with
much
difficulty
.
‘
He
was
took
ill
here
,
ma
’
am
,
and
—
ugh
!
ugh
!
ugh
!
dear
me
!
—
and
he
died
!
’
‘
Hey
!
What
did
he
die
of
?
’
asked
my
aunt
.
‘
Well
,
ma
’
am
,
he
died
of
drink
,
’
said
Mrs
.
Crupp
,
in
confidence
.
‘
And
smoke
.
’
‘
Smoke
?
You
don
’
t
mean
chimneys
?
’
said
my
aunt
.
‘
No
,
ma
’
am
,
’
returned
Mrs
.
Crupp
.
‘
Cigars
and
pipes
.
’
‘
That
’
s
not
catching
,
Trot
,
at
any
rate
,
’
remarked
my
aunt
,
turning
to
me
.
‘
No
,
indeed
,
’
said
I
.
