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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 647/820
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Sometimes
,
the
speculation
came
into
my
thoughts
,
What
might
have
happened
,
or
what
would
have
happened
,
if
Dora
and
I
had
never
known
each
other
?
But
she
was
so
incorporated
with
my
existence
,
that
it
was
the
idlest
of
all
fancies
,
and
would
soon
rise
out
of
my
reach
and
sight
,
like
gossamer
floating
in
the
air
.
I
always
loved
her
.
What
I
am
describing
,
slumbered
,
and
half
awoke
,
and
slept
again
,
in
the
innermost
recesses
of
my
mind
.
There
was
no
evidence
of
it
in
me
;
I
know
of
no
influence
it
had
in
anything
I
said
or
did
.
I
bore
the
weight
of
all
our
little
cares
,
and
all
my
projects
;
Dora
held
the
pens
;
and
we
both
felt
that
our
shares
were
adjusted
as
the
case
required
.
She
was
truly
fond
of
me
,
and
proud
of
me
;
and
when
Agnes
wrote
a
few
earnest
words
in
her
letters
to
Dora
,
of
the
pride
and
interest
with
which
my
old
friends
heard
of
my
growing
reputation
,
and
read
my
book
as
if
they
heard
me
speaking
its
contents
,
Dora
read
them
out
to
me
with
tears
of
joy
in
her
bright
eyes
,
and
said
I
was
a
dear
old
clever
,
famous
boy
.
‘
The
first
mistaken
impulse
of
an
undisciplined
heart
.
’
Those
words
of
Mrs
.
Strong
’
s
were
constantly
recurring
to
me
,
at
this
time
;
were
almost
always
present
to
my
mind
.
I
awoke
with
them
,
often
,
in
the
night
;
I
remember
to
have
even
read
them
,
in
dreams
,
inscribed
upon
the
walls
of
houses
.
For
I
knew
,
now
,
that
my
own
heart
was
undisciplined
when
it
first
loved
Dora
;
and
that
if
it
had
been
disciplined
,
it
never
could
have
felt
,
when
we
were
married
,
what
it
had
felt
in
its
secret
experience
.
‘
There
can
be
no
disparity
in
marriage
,
like
unsuitability
of
mind
and
purpose
.
’
Those
words
I
remembered
too
.
I
had
endeavoured
to
adapt
Dora
to
myself
,
and
found
it
impracticable
.
It
remained
for
me
to
adapt
myself
to
Dora
;
to
share
with
her
what
I
could
,
and
be
happy
;
to
bear
on
my
own
shoulders
what
I
must
,
and
be
happy
still
.
This
was
the
discipline
to
which
I
tried
to
bring
my
heart
,
when
I
began
to
think
.
It
made
my
second
year
much
happier
than
my
first
;
and
,
what
was
better
still
,
made
Dora
’
s
life
all
sunshine
.
But
,
as
that
year
wore
on
,
Dora
was
not
strong
.
I
had
hoped
that
lighter
hands
than
mine
would
help
to
mould
her
character
,
and
that
a
baby
-
smile
upon
her
breast
might
change
my
child
-
wife
to
a
woman
.
It
was
not
to
be
.
The
spirit
fluttered
for
a
moment
on
the
threshold
of
its
little
prison
,
and
,
unconscious
of
captivity
,
took
wing
.
‘
When
I
can
run
about
again
,
as
I
used
to
do
,
aunt
,
’
said
Dora
,
‘
I
shall
make
Jip
race
.
He
is
getting
quite
slow
and
lazy
.
’
‘
I
suspect
,
my
dear
,
’
said
my
aunt
quietly
working
by
her
side
,
‘
he
has
a
worse
disorder
than
that
.
Age
,
Dora
.
’
‘
Do
you
think
he
is
old
?
’
said
Dora
,
astonished
.
‘
Oh
,
how
strange
it
seems
that
Jip
should
be
old
!
’
