Дэвид Копперфильд

Mr. Peggotty’s Dream Comes True

           

           ‘So!’saidRosaDartle,withacontemptuouslaugh,‘Iseeheratlast!Why,hewasapoorcreaturetobetakenbythatdelicatemock-modesty,andthathanginghead!’

           ‘Oh,forHeaven’ssake,spareme!’exclaimedEmily.‘Whoeveryouare,youknowmypitiablestory,andforHeaven’ssakespareme,ifyouwouldbesparedyourself!’

           ‘IfIwouldbespared!’returnedtheotherfiercely;‘whatisthereincommonbetweenUS,doyouthink!’

           ‘Nothingbutoursex,’saidEmily,withaburstoftears.

           ‘Andthat,’saidRosaDartle,‘issostrongaclaim,preferredbyonesoinfamous,thatifIhadanyfeelinginmybreastbutscornandabhorrenceofyou,itwouldfreezeitup.Oursex!Youareanhonourtooursex!’

           ‘Ihavedeservedthis,’saidEmily,‘butit’sdreadful!Dear,dearlady,thinkwhatIhavesuffered,andhowIamfallen!Oh,Martha,comeback!Oh,home,home!’

           MissDartleplacedherselfinachair,withinviewofthedoor,andlookeddownward,asifEmilywerecrouchingonthefloorbeforeher.Beingnowbetweenmeandthelight,Icouldseehercurledlip,andhercrueleyesintentlyfixedononeplace,withagreedytriumph.

           ‘ListentowhatIsay!’shesaid;‘andreserveyourfalseartsforyourdupes.Doyouhopetomovemebyyourtears?Nomorethanyoucouldcharmmebyyoursmiles,youpurchasedslave.

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