Дэвид Копперфильд

I Become Neglected, and Am Provided for

           Shelookedsoextraordinarilyearnestandpretty,thatIstoppedinasortofwonder;andtheyallobservedheratthesametime,forasIstopped,theylaughedandlookedather.

           ‘Em’lyislikeme,’saidPeggotty,‘andwouldliketoseehim.’

           Em’lywasconfusedbyourallobservingher,andhungdownherhead,andherfacewascoveredwithblushes.Glancinguppresentlythroughherstraycurls,andseeingthatwewerealllookingatherstill(IamsureI,forone,couldhavelookedatherforhours),sheranaway,andkeptawaytillitwasnearlybedtime.

           Ilaydownintheoldlittlebedinthesternoftheboat,andthewindcamemoaningonacrosstheflatasithaddonebefore.ButIcouldnothelpfancying,now,thatitmoanedofthosewhoweregone;andinsteadofthinkingthattheseamightriseinthenightandfloattheboataway,Ithoughtoftheseathathadrisen,sinceIlastheardthosesounds,anddrownedmyhappyhome.Irecollect,asthewindandwaterbegantosoundfainterinmyears,puttingashortclauseintomyprayers,petitioningthatImightgrowuptomarrylittleEm’ly,andsodroppinglovinglyasleep.

           Thedayspassedprettymuchastheyhadpassedbefore,exceptitwasagreatexception-thatlittleEm’lyandIseldomwanderedonthebeachnow.Shehadtaskstolearn,andneedle-worktodo;andwasabsentduringagreatpartofeachday.ButIfeltthatweshouldnothavehadthoseoldwanderings,evenifithadbeenotherwise.

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