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Главная
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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 710/820
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‘
Directly
.
’
‘
What
a
good
,
kind
boy
!
Doady
,
take
me
on
your
arm
.
Indeed
,
my
dear
,
it
’
s
not
a
whim
.
It
’
s
not
a
foolish
fancy
.
I
want
,
very
much
indeed
,
to
see
her
!
’
‘
I
am
certain
of
it
.
I
have
only
to
tell
her
so
,
and
she
is
sure
to
come
.
’
‘
You
are
very
lonely
when
you
go
downstairs
,
now
?
’
Dora
whispers
,
with
her
arm
about
my
neck
.
‘
How
can
I
be
otherwise
,
my
own
love
,
when
I
see
your
empty
chair
?
’
‘
My
empty
chair
!
’
She
clings
to
me
for
a
little
while
,
in
silence
.
‘
And
you
really
miss
me
,
Doady
?
’
looking
up
,
and
brightly
smiling
.
‘
Even
poor
,
giddy
,
stupid
me
?
’
‘
My
heart
,
who
is
there
upon
earth
that
I
could
miss
so
much
?
’
‘
Oh
,
husband
!
I
am
so
glad
,
yet
so
sorry
!
’
creeping
closer
to
me
,
and
folding
me
in
both
her
arms
.
She
laughs
and
sobs
,
and
then
is
quiet
,
and
quite
happy
.
‘
Quite
!
’
she
says
.
‘
Only
give
Agnes
my
dear
love
,
and
tell
her
that
I
want
very
,
very
,
much
to
see
her
;
and
I
have
nothing
left
to
wish
for
.
’
