Дэвид Копперфильд

I Enlarge My Circle of Acquaintance

           Hewasasgoodashisword,ifthatwereallrightwhichIhadasecretmisgivingwasnearlyallwrong—forIfeareditwasawasteofmymother’stwohalf-crowns—thoughIhadpreservedthepieceofpapertheywerewrappedin:whichwasaprecioussaving.Whenwewentupstairstobed,heproducedthewholesevenshillings’worth,andlaiditoutonmybedinthemoonlight,saying:

           ‘Thereyouare,youngCopperfield,andaroyalspreadyou’vegot.’

           Icouldn’tthinkofdoingthehonoursofthefeast,atmytimeoflife,whilehewasby;myhandshookattheverythoughtofit.Ibeggedhimtodomethefavourofpresiding;andmyrequestbeingsecondedbytheotherboyswhowereinthatroom,heaccededtoit,andsatuponmypillow,handingroundtheviands—withperfectfairness,Imustsayanddispensingthecurrantwineinalittleglasswithoutafoot,whichwashisownproperty.Astome,Isatonhislefthand,andtherestweregroupedaboutus,onthenearestbedsandonthefloor.

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