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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 479/820
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‘
Well
,
well
,
’
said
the
Doctor
,
‘
that
’
s
true
.
Certainly
,
your
having
a
profession
,
and
being
actually
engaged
in
studying
it
,
makes
a
difference
.
But
,
my
good
young
friend
,
what
’
s
seventy
pounds
a
year
?
’
‘
It
doubles
our
income
,
Doctor
Strong
,
’
said
I
.
‘
Dear
me
!
’
replied
the
Doctor
.
‘
To
think
of
that
!
Not
that
I
mean
to
say
it
’
s
rigidly
limited
to
seventy
pounds
a
-
year
,
because
I
have
always
contemplated
making
any
young
friend
I
might
thus
employ
,
a
present
too
.
Undoubtedly
,
’
said
the
Doctor
,
still
walking
me
up
and
down
with
his
hand
on
my
shoulder
.
‘
I
have
always
taken
an
annual
present
into
account
.
’
‘
My
dear
tutor
,
’
said
I
(
now
,
really
,
without
any
nonsense
)
,
‘
to
whom
I
owe
more
obligations
already
than
I
ever
can
acknowledge
—
—
’
‘
No
,
no
,
’
interposed
the
Doctor
.
‘
Pardon
me
!
’
‘
If
you
will
take
such
time
as
I
have
,
and
that
is
my
mornings
and
evenings
,
and
can
think
it
worth
seventy
pounds
a
year
,
you
will
do
me
such
a
service
as
I
cannot
express
.
’
‘
Dear
me
!
’
said
the
Doctor
,
innocently
.
‘
To
think
that
so
little
should
go
for
so
much
!
Dear
,
dear
!
And
when
you
can
do
better
,
you
will
?
On
your
word
,
now
?
’
said
the
Doctor
,
—
which
he
had
always
made
a
very
grave
appeal
to
the
honour
of
us
boys
.
‘
On
my
word
,
sir
!
’
I
returned
,
answering
in
our
old
school
manner
.
‘
Then
be
it
so
,
’
said
the
Doctor
,
clapping
me
on
the
shoulder
,
and
still
keeping
his
hand
there
,
as
we
still
walked
up
and
down
.
