Дэвид Копперфильд

My First Dissipation

           

           Thesepreparationshappilycompleted,IboughtalittledessertinCoventGardenMarket,andgavearatherextensiveorderataretailwine-merchant’sinthatvicinity.WhenIcamehomeintheafternoon,andsawthebottlesdrawnupinasquareonthepantryfloor,theylookedsonumerous(thoughthereweretwomissing,whichmadeMrs.Cruppveryuncomfortable),thatIwasabsolutelyfrightenedatthem.

           OneofSteerforth’sfriendswasnamedGrainger,andtheotherMarkham.Theywerebothverygayandlivelyfellows;Grainger,somethingolderthanSteerforth;Markham,youthful-looking,andIshouldsaynotmorethantwenty.Iobservedthatthelatteralwaysspokeofhimselfindefinitely,as‘aman’,andseldomorneverinthefirstpersonsingular.

           ‘Amanmightgetonverywellhere,Mr.Copperfield,’saidMarkham-meaninghimself.

           ‘It’snotabadsituation,’saidI,‘andtheroomsarereallycommodious.’

           ‘Ihopeyouhavebothbroughtappetiteswithyou?’saidSteerforth.

           ‘Uponmyhonour,’returnedMarkham,‘townseemstosharpenaman’sappetite.Amanishungryalldaylong.Amanisperpetuallyeating.’

           Beingalittleembarrassedatfirst,andfeelingmuchtooyoungtopreside,ImadeSteerforthtaketheheadofthetablewhendinnerwasannounced,andseatedmyselfoppositetohim.

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