-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 443/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
I
begged
her
pardon
.
Not
at
all
.
‘
And
Dora
,
’
said
Miss
Mills
,
‘
YOU
are
dull
.
’
Oh
dear
no
!
Not
in
the
least
.
‘
Mr
.
Copperfield
and
Dora
,
’
said
Miss
Mills
,
with
an
almost
venerable
air
.
‘
Enough
of
this
.
Do
not
allow
a
trivial
misunderstanding
to
wither
the
blossoms
of
spring
,
which
,
once
put
forth
and
blighted
,
cannot
be
renewed
.
I
speak
,
’
said
Miss
Mills
,
‘
from
experience
of
the
past
—
the
remote
,
irrevocable
past
.
The
gushing
fountains
which
sparkle
in
the
sun
,
must
not
be
stopped
in
mere
caprice
;
the
oasis
in
the
desert
of
Sahara
must
not
be
plucked
up
idly
.
’
I
hardly
knew
what
I
did
,
I
was
burning
all
over
to
that
extraordinary
extent
;
but
I
took
Dora
’
s
little
hand
and
kissed
it
-
and
she
let
me
!
I
kissed
Miss
Mills
’
s
hand
;
and
we
all
seemed
,
to
my
thinking
,
to
go
straight
up
to
the
seventh
heaven
.
We
did
not
come
down
again
.
We
stayed
up
there
all
the
evening
.
At
first
we
strayed
to
and
fro
among
the
trees
:
I
with
Dora
’
s
shy
arm
drawn
through
mine
:
and
Heaven
knows
,
folly
as
it
all
was
,
it
would
have
been
a
happy
fate
to
have
been
struck
immortal
with
those
foolish
feelings
,
and
have
stayed
among
the
trees
for
ever
!
But
,
much
too
soon
,
we
heard
the
others
laughing
and
talking
,
and
calling
‘
where
’
s
Dora
?
’
So
we
went
back
,
and
they
wanted
Dora
to
sing
.
Red
Whisker
would
have
got
the
guitar
-
case
out
of
the
carriage
,
but
Dora
told
him
nobody
knew
where
it
was
,
but
I
.
So
Red
Whisker
was
done
for
in
a
moment
;
and
I
got
it
,
and
I
unlocked
it
,
and
I
took
the
guitar
out
,
and
I
sat
by
her
,
and
I
held
her
handkerchief
and
gloves
,
and
I
drank
in
every
note
of
her
dear
voice
,
and
she
sang
to
ME
who
loved
her
,
and
all
the
others
might
applaud
as
much
as
they
liked
,
but
they
had
nothing
to
do
with
it
!
I
was
intoxicated
with
joy
.
I
was
afraid
it
was
too
happy
to
be
real
,
and
that
I
should
wake
in
Buckingham
Street
presently
,
and
hear
Mrs
.
Crupp
clinking
the
teacups
in
getting
breakfast
ready
.
But
Dora
sang
,
and
others
sang
,
and
Miss
Mills
sang
—
about
the
slumbering
echoes
in
the
caverns
of
Memory
;
as
if
she
were
a
hundred
years
old
—
and
the
evening
came
on
;
and
we
had
tea
,
with
the
kettle
boiling
gipsy
-
fashion
;
and
I
was
still
as
happy
as
ever
.
I
was
happier
than
ever
when
the
party
broke
up
,
and
the
other
people
,
defeated
Red
Whisker
and
all
,
went
their
several
ways
,
and
we
went
ours
through
the
still
evening
and
the
dying
light
,
with
sweet
scents
rising
up
around
us
.
Mr
.
Spenlow
being
a
little
drowsy
after
the
champagne
—
honour
to
the
soil
that
grew
the
grape
,
to
the
grape
that
made
the
wine
,
to
the
sun
that
ripened
it
,
and
to
the
merchant
who
adulterated
it
!
—
and
being
fast
asleep
in
a
corner
of
the
carriage
,
I
rode
by
the
side
and
talked
to
Dora
.
She
admired
my
horse
and
patted
him
—
oh
,
what
a
dear
little
hand
it
looked
upon
a
horse
!
—
and
her
shawl
would
not
keep
right
,
and
now
and
then
I
drew
it
round
her
with
my
arm
;
and
I
even
fancied
that
Jip
began
to
see
how
it
was
,
and
to
understand
that
he
must
make
up
his
mind
to
be
friends
with
me
.
