Дэвид Копперфильд

Mr. Micawber’s Gauntlet

           

           ‘Traddles,’saidI,‘Mr.Micawberdon’tmeananyharm,poorfellow:but,ifIwereyou,Iwouldn’tlendhimanything.’

           ‘MydearCopperfield,’returnedTraddles,smiling,‘Ihaven’tgotanythingtolend.’

           ‘Youhavegotaname,youknow,’saidI.

           ‘Oh!YoucallTHATsomethingtolend?’returnedTraddles,withathoughtfullook.

           ‘Certainly.’

           ‘Oh!’saidTraddles.‘Yes,tobesure!Iamverymuchobligedtoyou,Copperfield;butIamafraidIhavelenthimthatalready.’

           ‘Forthebillthatistobeacertaininvestment?’Iinquired.

           ‘No,’saidTraddles.‘Notforthatone.ThisisthefirstIhaveheardofthatone.Ihavebeenthinkingthathewillmostlikelyproposethatone,onthewayhome.Mine’sanother.’

           ‘Ihopetherewillbenothingwrongaboutit,’saidI.‘Ihopenot,’saidTraddles.‘Ishouldthinknot,though,becausehetoldme,onlytheotherday,thatitwasprovidedfor.ThatwasMr.Micawber’sexpression,“Providedfor.”’

           Mr.Micawberlookingupatthisjuncturetowherewewerestanding,Ihadonlytimetorepeatmycaution.Traddlesthankedme,anddescended.ButIwasmuchafraid,whenIobservedthegood-naturedmannerinwhichhewentdownwiththecapinhishand,andgaveMrs.Micawberhisarm,thathewouldbecarriedintotheMoneyMarketneckandheels.

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