Дэвид Копперфильд

Steerforth’s Home

           IcouldnotenoughadmirethechangehehadwroughtintheGoldenCross;orcomparethedullforlornstateIhadheldyesterday,withthismorning’scomfortandthismorning’sentertainment.Astothewaiter’sfamiliarity,itwasquenchedasifithadneverbeen.Heattendedonus,asImaysay,insackclothandashes.

           ‘Now,Copperfield,’saidSteerforth,whenwewerealone,‘Ishouldliketohearwhatyouaredoing,andwhereyouaregoing,andallaboutyou.Ifeelasifyouweremyproperty.’Glowingwithpleasuretofindthathehadstillthisinterestinme,ItoldhimhowmyaunthadproposedthelittleexpeditionthatIhadbeforeme,andwhitherittended.

           ‘Asyouareinnohurry,then,’saidSteerforth,‘comehomewithmetoHighgate,andstayadayortwo.Youwillbepleasedwithmymothersheisalittlevainandprosyaboutme,butthatyoucanforgiveherandshewillbepleasedwithyou.’

           ‘Ishouldliketobeassureofthat,asyouarekindenoughtosayyouare,’Ianswered,smiling.

           ‘Oh!’saidSteerforth,‘everyonewholikesme,hasaclaimonherthatissuretobeacknowledged.’

           ‘ThenIthinkIshallbeafavourite,’saidI.

           ‘Good!’saidSteerforth.‘Comeandproveit.Wewillgoandseethelionsforanhourortwoit’ssomethingtohaveafreshfellowlikeyoutoshowthemto,Copperfieldandthenwe’lljourneyouttoHighgatebythecoach.

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