Дэвид Копперфильд

I Fall into Captivity

           Familycircumstancesareasufficientreasonforouronlymeetingonthatfooting,anditisquiteunnecessarythateitherofusshouldmaketheotherthesubjectofremark.Doyouapproveofthis?’

           ‘MissMurdstone,’Ireturned,‘IthinkyouandMr.Murdstoneusedmeverycruelly,andtreatedmymotherwithgreatunkindness.Ishallalwaysthinkso,aslongasIlive.ButIquiteagreeinwhatyoupropose.’

           MissMurdstoneshuthereyesagain,andbentherhead.Then,justtouchingthebackofmyhandwiththetipsofhercold,stifffingers,shewalkedaway,arrangingthelittlefettersonherwristsandroundherneck;whichseemedtobethesameset,inexactlythesamestate,aswhenIhadseenherlast.Theseremindedme,inreferencetoMissMurdstone’snature,ofthefettersoverajaildoor;suggestingontheoutside,toallbeholders,whatwastobeexpectedwithin.

           AllIknowoftherestoftheeveningis,thatIheardtheempressofmyheartsingenchantedballadsintheFrenchlanguage,generallytotheeffectthat,whateverwasthematter,weoughtalwaystodance,Tarala,Tarala!accompanyingherselfonaglorifiedinstrument,resemblingaguitar.ThatIwaslostinblissfuldelirium.ThatIrefusedrefreshment.Thatmysoulrecoiledfrompunchparticularly.ThatwhenMissMurdstonetookherintocustodyandledheraway,shesmiledandgavemeherdelicioushand.ThatIcaughtaviewofmyselfinamirror,lookingperfectlyimbecileandidiotic.

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