Дэвид Копперфильд

A Retrospect

           

           MissLarkinslaughsandblushes(orIthinksheblushes),andsays,‘Nexttimebutone,Ishallbeveryglad.’

           Thetimearrives.‘Itisawaltz,Ithink,’MissLarkinsdoubtfullyobserves,whenIpresentmyself.‘Doyouwaltz?Ifnot,CaptainBailey

           ButIdowaltz(prettywell,too,asithappens),andItakeMissLarkinsout.ItakehersternlyfromthesideofCaptainBailey.Heiswretched,Ihavenodoubt;butheisnothingtome.Ihavebeenwretched,too.IwaltzwiththeeldestMissLarkins!Idon’tknowwhere,amongwhom,orhowlong.IonlyknowthatIswimaboutinspace,withablueangel,inastateofblissfuldelirium,untilIfindmyselfalonewithherinalittleroom,restingonasofa.Sheadmiresaflower(pinkcamelliajaponica,pricehalf-a-crown),inmybutton-hole.Igiveither,andsay:

           ‘Iaskaninestimablepriceforit,MissLarkins.’

           ‘Indeed!Whatisthat?’returnsMissLarkins.

           ‘Aflowerofyours,thatImaytreasureitasamiserdoesgold.’

           ‘You’reaboldboy,’saysMissLarkins.‘There.’

           Shegivesitme,notdispleased;andIputittomylips,andthenintomybreast.MissLarkins,laughing,drawsherhandthroughmyarm,andsays,‘NowtakemebacktoCaptainBailey.

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