Дэвид Копперфильд

Another Retrospect

           ‘Perhaps!ButifIhadbeenmorefittobemarriedImighthavemadeyoumoreso,too.Besides,youareveryclever,andIneverwas.’

           ‘Wehavebeenveryhappy,mysweetDora.’

           ‘Iwasveryhappy,very.But,asyearswenton,mydearboywouldhaveweariedofhischild-wife.Shewouldhavebeenlessandlessacompanionforhim.Hewouldhavebeenmoreandmoresensibleofwhatwaswantinginhishome.Shewouldn’thaveimproved.Itisbetterasitis.’

           ‘Oh,Dora,dearest,dearest,donotspeaktomeso.Everywordseemsareproach!’

           ‘No,notasyllable!’sheanswers,kissingme.‘Oh,mydear,youneverdeservedit,andIlovedyoufartoowelltosayareproachfulwordtoyou,inearnestitwasallthemeritIhad,exceptbeingprettyoryouthoughtmeso.Isitlonely,down-stairs,Doady?’

           ‘Very!Very!’

           ‘Don’tcry!Ismychairthere?’

           ‘Initsoldplace.’

           ‘Oh,howmypoorboycries!Hush,hush!Now,makemeonepromise.IwanttospeaktoAgnes.Whenyougodownstairs,tellAgnesso,andsendheruptome;andwhileIspeaktoher,letnoonecomenotevenaunt.IwanttospeaktoAgnesbyherself.IwanttospeaktoAgnes,quitealone.’

           Ipromisethatsheshall,immediately;butIcannotleaveher,formygrief.

           ‘Isaidthatitwasbetterasitis!’shewhispers,assheholdsmeinherarms.

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Roboto Lora
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