Дэвид Копперфильд

Little Em’ly

           Inthefirstglimpsewehadofthemall,andatthemomentofourpassingfromthedarkcoldnightintothewarmlightroom,thiswasthewayinwhichtheywereallemployed:Mrs.Gummidgeinthebackground,clappingherhandslikeamadwoman.

           Thelittlepicturewassoinstantaneouslydissolvedbyourgoingin,thatonemighthavedoubtedwhetherithadeverbeen.Iwasinthemidstoftheastonishedfamily,facetofacewithMr.Peggotty,andholdingoutmyhandtohim,whenHamshouted:

           ‘Mas’rDavy!It’sMas’rDavy!’

           Inamomentwewereallshakinghandswithoneanother,andaskingoneanotherhowwedid,andtellingoneanotherhowgladweweretomeet,andalltalkingatonce.Mr.Peggottywassoproudandoverjoyedtoseeus,thathedidnotknowwhattosayordo,butkeptoverandoveragainshakinghandswithme,andthenwithSteerforth,andthenwithme,andthenrufflinghisshaggyhairalloverhishead,andlaughingwithsuchgleeandtriumph,thatitwasatreattoseehim.

           ‘Why,thatyoutwogent’lmengent’lmengrowedshouldcometothishererooftonight,ofallnightsinmylife,’saidMr.Peggotty,‘issuchathingasneverhappenedafore,Idorightlybelieve!Em’ly,mydarling,comehere!Comehere,mylittlewitch!There’sMas’rDavy’sfriend,mydear!There’sthegent’lmanasyou’veheerdon,Em’ly.

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