Дэвид Копперфильд

I Am Born

           Thattherewerenowoccasionalsoundsoffeetandvoicesoverheadwhichheinferredthecottondidnotexclude,fromthecircumstanceofhisevidentlybeingclutchedbytheladyasavictimonwhomtoexpendhersuperabundantagitationwhenthesoundswereloudest.That,marchinghimconstantlyupanddownbythecollar(asifhehadbeentakingtoomuchlaudanum),she,atthosetimes,shookhim,rumpledhishair,madelightofhislinen,stoppedhisearsasifsheconfoundedthemwithherown,andotherwisetousledandmaltreatedhim.Thiswasinpartconfirmedbyhisaunt,whosawhimathalfpasttwelveo’clock,soonafterhisrelease,andaffirmedthathewasthenasredasIwas.

           ThemildMr.Chillipcouldnotpossiblybearmaliceatsuchatime,ifatanytime.Hesidledintotheparlourassoonashewasatliberty,andsaidtomyauntinhismeekestmanner:

           ‘Well,ma’am,Iamhappytocongratulateyou.’

           ‘Whatupon?’saidmyaunt,sharply.

           Mr.Chillipwasflutteredagain,bytheextremeseverityofmyaunt’smanner;sohemadeheralittlebowandgaveheralittlesmile,tomollifyher.

           ‘Mercyontheman,what’shedoing!’criedmyaunt,impatiently.‘Can’thespeak?’

           ‘Becalm,mydearma’am,’saidMr.Chillip,inhissoftestaccents.

           ‘Thereisnolongeranyoccasionforuneasiness,ma’am.Becalm.

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