Дэвид Копперфильд

Our Housekeeping

           Likewisetoactalittleforyourself,andme.’

           ‘Iwonder,Ido,atyourmakingsuchungratefulspeeches,’sobbedDora.‘Whenyouknowthattheotherday,whenyousaidyouwouldlikealittlebitoffish,Iwentoutmyself,milesandmiles,andorderedit,tosurpriseyou.’

           ‘Anditwasverykindofyou,myowndarling,’saidI.‘IfeltitsomuchthatIwouldn’tonanyaccounthaveevenmentionedthatyouboughtaSalmonwhichwastoomuchfortwo.Orthatitcostonepoundsixwhichwasmorethanwecanafford.’

           ‘Youenjoyeditverymuch,’sobbedDora.‘AndyousaidIwasaMouse.’

           ‘AndI’llsaysoagain,mylove,’Ireturned,‘athousandtimes!’

           ButIhadwoundedDora’ssoftlittleheart,andshewasnottobecomforted.Shewassopatheticinhersobbingandbewailing,thatIfeltasifIhadsaidIdon’tknowwhattohurther.Iwasobligedtohurryaway;Iwaskeptoutlate;andIfeltallnightsuchpangsofremorseasmadememiserable.Ihadtheconscienceofanassassin,andwashauntedbyavaguesenseofenormouswickedness.

           ItwastwoorthreehourspastmidnightwhenIgothome.Ifoundmyaunt,inourhouse,sittingupforme.

           ‘Isanythingthematter,aunt?’saidI,alarmed.

           ‘Nothing,Trot,’shereplied.‘Sitdown,sitdown.LittleBlossomhasbeenratheroutofspirits,andIhavebeenkeepinghercompany.That’sall.

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Roboto Lora
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