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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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If
the
day
were
half
as
tremendous
to
any
other
professional
gentleman
in
Doctors
’
Commons
as
it
was
to
me
,
I
sincerely
believe
he
made
some
expiation
for
his
share
in
that
rotten
old
ecclesiastical
cheese
.
Although
I
left
the
office
at
half
past
three
,
and
was
prowling
about
the
place
of
appointment
within
a
few
minutes
afterwards
,
the
appointed
time
was
exceeded
by
a
full
quarter
of
an
hour
,
according
to
the
clock
of
St
.
Andrew
’
s
,
Holborn
,
before
I
could
muster
up
sufficient
desperation
to
pull
the
private
bell
-
handle
let
into
the
left
-
hand
door
-
post
of
Mr
.
Waterbrook
’
s
house
.
The
professional
business
of
Mr
.
Waterbrook
’
s
establishment
was
done
on
the
ground
-
floor
,
and
the
genteel
business
(
of
which
there
was
a
good
deal
)
in
the
upper
part
of
the
building
.
I
was
shown
into
a
pretty
but
rather
close
drawing
-
room
,
and
there
sat
Agnes
,
netting
a
purse
.
She
looked
so
quiet
and
good
,
and
reminded
me
so
strongly
of
my
airy
fresh
school
days
at
Canterbury
,
and
the
sodden
,
smoky
,
stupid
wretch
I
had
been
the
other
night
,
that
,
nobody
being
by
,
I
yielded
to
my
self
-
reproach
and
shame
,
and
—
in
short
,
made
a
fool
of
myself
.
I
cannot
deny
that
I
shed
tears
.
To
this
hour
I
am
undecided
whether
it
was
upon
the
whole
the
wisest
thing
I
could
have
done
,
or
the
most
ridiculous
.
‘
If
it
had
been
anyone
but
you
,
Agnes
,
’
said
I
,
turning
away
my
head
,
‘
I
should
not
have
minded
it
half
so
much
.
But
that
it
should
have
been
you
who
saw
me
!
I
almost
wish
I
had
been
dead
,
first
.
’
She
put
her
hand
—
its
touch
was
like
no
other
hand
—
upon
my
arm
for
a
moment
;
and
I
felt
so
befriended
and
comforted
,
that
I
could
not
help
moving
it
to
my
lips
,
and
gratefully
kissing
it
.
‘
Sit
down
,
’
said
Agnes
,
cheerfully
.
‘
Don
’
t
be
unhappy
,
Trotwood
.
If
you
cannot
confidently
trust
me
,
whom
will
you
trust
?
’
‘
Ah
,
Agnes
!
’
I
returned
.
‘
You
are
my
good
Angel
!
’
She
smiled
rather
sadly
,
I
thought
,
and
shook
her
head
.
