Дэвид Копперфильд

Mr. Micawber’s Transactions

           Micawberhisarm,andglancingattheheapofbooksandpaperslyingbeforeTraddlesonthetable,saidtheywouldleaveustoourselves;whichtheyceremoniouslydid.

           ‘MydearCopperfield,’saidTraddles,leaningbackinhischairwhentheyweregone,andlookingatmewithanaffectionthatmadehiseyesred,andhishairallkindsofshapes,‘Idon’tmakeanyexcusefortroublingyouwithbusiness,becauseIknowyouaredeeplyinterestedinit,anditmaydivertyourthoughts.Mydearboy,Ihopeyouarenotwornout?’

           ‘Iamquitemyself,’saidI,afterapause.‘Wehavemorecausetothinkofmyauntthanofanyone.Youknowhowmuchshehasdone.’

           ‘Surely,surely,’answeredTraddles.‘Whocanforgetit!’

           ‘Buteventhatisnotall,’saidI.‘Duringthelastfortnight,somenewtroublehasvexedher;andshehasbeeninandoutofLondoneveryday.Severaltimesshehasgoneoutearly,andbeenabsentuntilevening.Lastnight,Traddles,withthisjourneybeforeher,itwasalmostmidnightbeforeshecamehome.Youknowwhatherconsiderationforothersis.Shewillnottellmewhathashappenedtodistressher.’

           Myaunt,verypale,andwithdeeplinesinherface,satimmovableuntilIhadfinished;whensomestraytearsfoundtheirwaytohercheeks,andsheputherhandonmine.

           ‘It’snothing,Trot;it’snothing.Therewillbenomoreofit.Youshallknowbyandby.

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 1251 из 1418