Дэвид Копперфильд

Little Em’ly

           

           Whatextravagancesshecommitted;whatlaughingandcryingoverme;whatpridesheshowed,whatjoy,whatsorrowthatshewhoseprideandjoyImighthavebeen,couldneverholdmeinafondembrace;Ihavenotthehearttotell.Iwastroubledwithnomisgivingthatitwasyounginmetorespondtoheremotions.Ihadneverlaughedandcriedinallmylife,IdaresaynoteventohermorefreelythanIdidthatmorning.

           ‘Barkiswillbesoglad,’saidPeggotty,wipinghereyeswithherapron,‘thatit’lldohimmoregoodthanpintsofliniment.MayIgoandtellhimyouarehere?Willyoucomeupandseehim,mydear?’

           OfcourseIwould.ButPeggottycouldnotgetoutoftheroomaseasilyasshemeantto,forasoftenasshegottothedoorandlookedroundatme,shecamebackagaintohaveanotherlaughandanothercryuponmyshoulder.Atlast,tomakethemattereasier,Iwentupstairswithher;andhavingwaitedoutsideforaminute,whileshesaidawordofpreparationtoMr.Barkis,presentedmyselfbeforethatinvalid.

           Hereceivedmewithabsoluteenthusiasm.Hewastoorheumatictobeshakenhandswith,buthebeggedmetoshakethetasselonthetopofhisnightcap,whichIdidmostcordially.WhenIsatdownbythesideofthebed,hesaidthatitdidhimaworldofgoodtofeelasifhewasdrivingmeontheBlunderstoneroadagain.

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