Дэвид Копперфильд

Mr. Dick fulfils my aunt’s Predictions

           AsIgrewup,heoccupiedthesameplacestill.Iwasproudofhisinterest:deeply,fondly,gratefullyattachedtohim.Ilookeduptohim,Icanhardlydescribehowasafather,asaguide,asonewhosepraisewasdifferentfromallotherpraise,asoneinwhomIcouldhavetrustedandconfided,ifIhaddoubtedalltheworld.Youknow,mama,howyoungandinexperiencedIwas,whenyoupresentedhimbeforeme,ofasudden,asalover.’

           ‘Ihavementionedthefact,fiftytimesatleast,toeverybodyhere!’saidMrs.Markleham.

           (‘Thenholdyourtongue,fortheLord’ssake,anddon’tmentionitanymore!’mutteredmyaunt.)

           ‘Itwassogreatachange:sogreataloss,Ifeltit,atfirst,’saidAnnie,stillpreservingthesamelookandtone,‘thatIwasagitatedanddistressed.Iwasbutagirl;andwhensogreatachangecameinthecharacterinwhichIhadsolonglookeduptohim,IthinkIwassorry.Butnothingcouldhavemadehimwhatheusedtobeagain;andIwasproudthatheshouldthinkmesoworthy,andweweremarried.’‘-AtSaintAlphage,Canterbury,’observedMrs.Markleham.

           (‘Confoundthewoman!’saidmyaunt,‘sheWON’Tbequiet!’)

           ‘Ineverthought,’proceededAnnie,withaheightenedcolour,‘ofanyworldlygainthatmyhusbandwouldbringtome.Myyounghearthadnoroominitshomageforanysuchpoorreference.

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