Дэвид Копперфильд

Good and Bad Angels

           Ifeltthen,morethanever,thatshewasmybetterAngel;andifIthoughtofhersweetfaceandplacidsmile,asthoughtheyhadshoneonmefromsomeremovedbeing,likeanAngel,IhopeIthoughtnoharm.

           Ihavesaidthatthecompanywereallgone;butIoughttohaveexceptedUriah,whomIdon’tincludeinthatdenomination,andwhohadneverceasedtohovernearus.HewasclosebehindmewhenIwentdownstairs.Hewasclosebesideme,whenIwalkedawayfromthehouse,slowlyfittinghislongskeletonfingersintothestilllongerfingersofagreatGuyFawkespairofgloves.

           ItwasinnodispositionforUriah’scompany,butinremembranceoftheentreatyAgneshadmadetome,thatIaskedhimifhewouldcomehometomyrooms,andhavesomecoffee.

           ‘Oh,really,MasterCopperfield,’herejoined‘Ibegyourpardon,MisterCopperfield,buttheothercomessonatural,Idon’tlikethatyoushouldputaconstraintuponyourselftoaskanumblepersonlikemetoyourouse.’

           ‘Thereisnoconstraintinthecase,’saidI.‘Willyoucome?’

           ‘Ishouldliketo,verymuch,’repliedUriah,withawrithe.

           ‘Well,then,comealong!’saidI.

           Icouldnothelpbeingrathershortwithhim,butheappearednottomindit.

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