-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 745/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
Faults
!
’
she
cried
,
bursting
into
passionate
tears
.
‘
Who
dares
malign
him
?
He
had
a
soul
worth
millions
of
the
friends
to
whom
he
stooped
!
’
‘
No
one
can
have
loved
him
better
,
no
one
can
hold
him
in
dearer
remembrance
than
I
,
’
I
replied
.
‘
I
meant
to
say
,
if
you
have
no
compassion
for
his
mother
;
or
if
his
faults
—
you
have
been
bitter
on
them
—
—
’
‘
It
’
s
false
,
’
she
cried
,
tearing
her
black
hair
;
‘
I
loved
him
!
’
‘
-
if
his
faults
cannot
,
’
I
went
on
,
‘
be
banished
from
your
remembrance
,
in
such
an
hour
;
look
at
that
figure
,
even
as
one
you
have
never
seen
before
,
and
render
it
some
help
!
’
All
this
time
,
the
figure
was
unchanged
,
and
looked
unchangeable
.
Motionless
,
rigid
,
staring
;
moaning
in
the
same
dumb
way
from
time
to
time
,
with
the
same
helpless
motion
of
the
head
;
but
giving
no
other
sign
of
life
.
Miss
Dartle
suddenly
kneeled
down
before
it
,
and
began
to
loosen
the
dress
.
‘
A
curse
upon
you
!
’
she
said
,
looking
round
at
me
,
with
a
mingled
expression
of
rage
and
grief
.
‘
It
was
in
an
evil
hour
that
you
ever
came
here
!
A
curse
upon
you
!
Go
!
’
After
passing
out
of
the
room
,
I
hurried
back
to
ring
the
bell
,
the
sooner
to
alarm
the
servants
She
had
then
taken
the
impassive
figure
in
her
arms
,
and
,
still
upon
her
knees
,
was
weeping
over
it
,
kissing
it
,
calling
to
it
,
rocking
it
to
and
fro
upon
her
bosom
like
a
child
,
and
trying
every
tender
means
to
rouse
the
dormant
senses
.
No
longer
afraid
of
leaving
her
,
I
noiselessly
turned
back
again
;
and
alarmed
the
house
as
I
went
out
.
Later
in
the
day
,
I
returned
,
and
we
laid
him
in
his
mother
’
s
room
.
She
was
just
the
same
,
they
told
me
;
Miss
Dartle
never
left
her
;
doctors
were
in
attendance
,
many
things
had
been
tried
;
but
she
lay
like
a
statue
,
except
for
the
low
sound
now
and
then
.
I
went
through
the
dreary
house
,
and
darkened
the
windows
.
The
windows
of
the
chamber
where
he
lay
,
I
darkened
last
.
I
lifted
up
the
leaden
hand
,
and
held
it
to
my
heart
;
and
all
the
world
seemed
death
and
silence
,
broken
only
by
his
mother
’
s
moaning
.
