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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 385/820
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Our
conversation
,
afterwards
,
took
a
more
worldly
turn
;
Mr
.
Micawber
telling
us
that
he
found
Camden
Town
inconvenient
,
and
that
the
first
thing
he
contemplated
doing
,
when
the
advertisement
should
have
been
the
cause
of
something
satisfactory
turning
up
,
was
to
move
.
He
mentioned
a
terrace
at
the
western
end
of
Oxford
Street
,
fronting
Hyde
Park
,
on
which
he
had
always
had
his
eye
,
but
which
he
did
not
expect
to
attain
immediately
,
as
it
would
require
a
large
establishment
.
There
would
probably
be
an
interval
,
he
explained
,
in
which
he
should
content
himself
with
the
upper
part
of
a
house
,
over
some
respectable
place
of
business
—
say
in
Piccadilly
,
—
which
would
be
a
cheerful
situation
for
Mrs
.
Micawber
;
and
where
,
by
throwing
out
a
bow
-
window
,
or
carrying
up
the
roof
another
story
,
or
making
some
little
alteration
of
that
sort
,
they
might
live
,
comfortably
and
reputably
,
for
a
few
years
.
Whatever
was
reserved
for
him
,
he
expressly
said
,
or
wherever
his
abode
might
be
,
we
might
rely
on
this
—
there
would
always
be
a
room
for
Traddles
,
and
a
knife
and
fork
for
me
.
We
acknowledged
his
kindness
;
and
he
begged
us
to
forgive
his
having
launched
into
these
practical
and
business
-
like
details
,
and
to
excuse
it
as
natural
in
one
who
was
making
entirely
new
arrangements
in
life
.
Mrs
.
Micawber
,
tapping
at
the
wall
again
to
know
if
tea
were
ready
,
broke
up
this
particular
phase
of
our
friendly
conversation
.
She
made
tea
for
us
in
a
most
agreeable
manner
;
and
,
whenever
I
went
near
her
,
in
handing
about
the
tea
-
cups
and
bread
-
and
-
butter
,
asked
me
,
in
a
whisper
,
whether
D
.
was
fair
,
or
dark
,
or
whether
she
was
short
,
or
tall
:
or
something
of
that
kind
;
which
I
think
I
liked
.
After
tea
,
we
discussed
a
variety
of
topics
before
the
fire
;
and
Mrs
.
Micawber
was
good
enough
to
sing
us
(
in
a
small
,
thin
,
flat
voice
,
which
I
remembered
to
have
considered
,
when
I
first
knew
her
,
the
very
table
-
beer
of
acoustics
)
the
favourite
ballads
of
‘
The
Dashing
White
Sergeant
’
,
and
‘
Little
Tafflin
’
.
For
both
of
these
songs
Mrs
.
Micawber
had
been
famous
when
she
lived
at
home
with
her
papa
and
mama
.
Mr
.
Micawber
told
us
,
that
when
he
heard
her
sing
the
first
one
,
on
the
first
occasion
of
his
seeing
her
beneath
the
parental
roof
,
she
had
attracted
his
attention
in
an
extraordinary
degree
;
but
that
when
it
came
to
Little
Tafflin
,
he
had
resolved
to
win
that
woman
or
perish
in
the
attempt
.
It
was
between
ten
and
eleven
o
’
clock
when
Mrs
.
Micawber
rose
to
replace
her
cap
in
the
whitey
-
brown
paper
parcel
,
and
to
put
on
her
bonnet
.
Mr
.
Micawber
took
the
opportunity
of
Traddles
putting
on
his
great
-
coat
,
to
slip
a
letter
into
my
hand
,
with
a
whispered
request
that
I
would
read
it
at
my
leisure
.
I
also
took
the
opportunity
of
my
holding
a
candle
over
the
banisters
to
light
them
down
,
when
Mr
.
Micawber
was
going
first
,
leading
Mrs
.
Micawber
,
and
Traddles
was
following
with
the
cap
,
to
detain
Traddles
for
a
moment
on
the
top
of
the
stairs
.
‘
Traddles
,
’
said
I
,
‘
Mr
.
Micawber
don
’
t
mean
any
harm
,
poor
fellow
:
but
,
if
I
were
you
,
I
wouldn
’
t
lend
him
anything
.
’
‘
My
dear
Copperfield
,
’
returned
Traddles
,
smiling
,
‘
I
haven
’
t
got
anything
to
lend
.
’
‘
You
have
got
a
name
,
you
know
,
’
said
I
.
‘
Oh
!
You
call
THAT
something
to
lend
?
’
returned
Traddles
,
with
a
thoughtful
look
.
‘
Certainly
.
’
‘
Oh
!
’
said
Traddles
.
‘
Yes
,
to
be
sure
!
I
am
very
much
obliged
to
you
,
Copperfield
;
but
—
I
am
afraid
I
have
lent
him
that
already
.
’
