Дэвид Копперфильд

Some Old Scenes, and Some New People

           

           ‘Well,Mas’rDavy,inageneralway,so‘twouldbe,’hereturned;‘butlook’eehere,Mas’rDavy,’loweringhisvoice,andspeakingverygravely.‘It’sayoungwoman,sirayoungwoman,thatEm’lyknowedonce,anddoen’toughttoknownomore.’

           WhenIheardthesewords,alightbegantofalluponthefigureIhadseenfollowingthem,somehoursago.

           ‘It’sapoorwurem,Mas’rDavy,’saidHam,‘asistrodunderfootbyallthetown.Upstreetanddownstreet.Themowldo’thechurchyarddon’tholdanythatthefolkshrinkawayfrom,more.’

           ‘DidIseehertonight,Ham,onthesand,afterwemetyou?’

           ‘Keepingusinsight?’saidHam.‘It’slikeyoudid,Mas’rDavy.NotthatIknow’dthen,shewastheer,sir,butalongofhercreepingsoonarterwardsunderEm’ly’slittlewinder,whensheseethelightcome,andwhispering“Em’ly,Em’ly,forChrist’ssake,haveawoman’shearttowardsme.Iwasoncelikeyou!”Thosewassolemnwords,Mas’rDavy,furtohear!’

           ‘Theywereindeed,Ham.WhatdidEm’lydo?’‘SaysEm’ly,“Martha,isityou?Oh,Martha,canitbeyou?”fortheyhadsatatworktogether,manyaday,atMr.Omer’s.’

           ‘Irecollecthernow!’criedI,recallingoneofthetwogirlsIhadseenwhenIfirstwentthere.‘Irecollectherquitewell!’

           ‘MarthaEndell,’saidHam.

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