Дэвид Копперфильд

I Look About Me, and Make a Discovery

           

           ‘Bytheby!andlettersfromMr.JackMaldon!’saidtheDoctor.

           ‘Indeed!’‘PoordearJack!’saidMrs.Markleham,shakingherhead.‘Thattryingclimate!likeliving,theytellme,onasand-heap,underneathaburning-glass!Helookedstrong,buthewasn’t.MydearDoctor,itwashisspirit,nothisconstitution,thatheventuredonsoboldly.Annie,mydear,IamsureyoumustperfectlyrecollectthatyourcousinneverwasstrongnotwhatcanbecalledROBUST,youknow,’saidMrs.Markleham,withemphasis,andlookingrounduponusgenerally,‘-fromthetimewhenmydaughterandhimselfwerechildrentogether,andwalkingabout,arm-in-arm,thelivelongday.’

           Annie,thusaddressed,madenoreply.

           ‘DoIgatherfromwhatyousay,ma’am,thatMr.Maldonisill?’askedMr.Wickfield.

           ‘Ill!’repliedtheOldSoldier.‘Mydearsir,he’sallsortsofthings.’

           ‘Exceptwell?’saidMr.Wickfield.

           ‘Exceptwell,indeed!’saidtheOldSoldier.‘Hehashaddreadfulstrokesofthesun,nodoubt,andjunglefeversandagues,andeverykindofthingyoucanmention.Astohisliver,’saidtheOldSoldierresignedly,‘that,ofcourse,hegaveupaltogether,whenhefirstwentout!’

           ‘Doeshesayallthis?’askedMr.Wickfield.

           ‘Say?Mydearsir,’returnedMrs.

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