Дэвид Копперфильд

I Fall into Captivity

           

           Idon’trememberwhowasthere,exceptDora.Ihavenottheleastideawhatwehadfordinner,besidesDora.Myimpressionis,thatIdinedoffDora,entirely,andsentawayhalf-a-dozenplatesuntouched.Isatnexttoher.Italkedtoher.Shehadthemostdelightfullittlevoice,thegayestlittlelaugh,thepleasantestandmostfascinatinglittleways,thateverledalostyouthintohopelessslavery.Shewasratherdiminutivealtogether.Somuchthemoreprecious,Ithought.

           WhenshewentoutoftheroomwithMissMurdstone(nootherladieswereoftheparty),Ifellintoareverie,onlydisturbedbythecruelapprehensionthatMissMurdstonewoulddisparagemetoher.Theamiablecreaturewiththepolishedheadtoldmealongstory,whichIthinkwasaboutgardening.IthinkIheardhimsay,‘mygardener’,severaltimes.Iseemedtopaythedeepestattentiontohim,butIwaswanderinginagardenofEdenallthewhile,withDora.

           Myapprehensionsofbeingdisparagedtotheobjectofmyengrossingaffectionwererevivedwhenwewentintothedrawing-room,bythegrimanddistantaspectofMissMurdstone.ButIwasrelievedoftheminanunexpectedmanner.

           ‘DavidCopperfield,’saidMissMurdstone,beckoningmeasideintoawindow.‘Aword.’

           IconfrontedMissMurdstonealone.

           ‘DavidCopperfield,’saidMissMurdstone,‘Ineednotenlargeuponfamilycircumstances.Theyarenotatemptingsubject.’‘Farfromit,ma’am,’Ireturned.

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