Дэвид Копперфильд

I Observe

           Somebody’ssharp.’

           ‘Whois?’askedthegentleman,laughing.Ilookedup,quickly;beingcurioustoknow.

           ‘OnlyBrooksofSheffield,’saidMr.Murdstone.

           IwasquiterelievedtofindthatitwasonlyBrooksofSheffield;for,atfirst,IreallythoughtitwasI.

           ThereseemedtobesomethingverycomicalinthereputationofMr.BrooksofSheffield,forboththegentlemenlaughedheartilywhenhewasmentioned,andMr.Murdstonewasagooddealamusedalso.Aftersomelaughing,thegentlemanwhomhehadcalledQuinion,said:

           ‘AndwhatistheopinionofBrooksofSheffield,inreferencetotheprojectedbusiness?’

           ‘Why,Idon’tknowthatBrooksunderstandsmuchaboutitatpresent,’repliedMr.Murdstone;‘butheisnotgenerallyfavourable,Ibelieve.’

           Therewasmorelaughteratthis,andMr.QuinionsaidhewouldringthebellforsomesherryinwhichtodrinktoBrooks.Thishedid;andwhenthewinecame,hemademehavealittle,withabiscuit,and,beforeIdrankit,standupandsay,‘ConfusiontoBrooksofSheffield!’Thetoastwasreceivedwithgreatapplause,andsuchheartylaughterthatitmademelaughtoo;atwhichtheylaughedthemore.Inshort,wequiteenjoyedourselves.

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