Дэвид Копперфильд

A Greater Loss

           ‘Lightedup,accordin’tocustom!You’reawonderin’whatthat’sfur,sir!Well,it’sfurourlittleEm’ly.Yousee,thepathain’toverlightorcheerfularterdark;andwhenI’mhereatthehourasshe’sacomin’home,Iputsthelightinthewinder.That,yousee,’saidMr.Peggotty,bendingovermewithgreatglee,‘meetstwoobjects.Shesays,saysEm’ly,“Theer’shome!”shesays.Andlikewise,saysEm’ly,“Myuncle’stheer!”FurifIain’ttheer,Ineverhavenolightshowed.’

           ‘You’reababy!’saidPeggotty;veryfondofhimforit,ifshethoughtso.

           ‘Well,’returnedMr.Peggotty,standingwithhislegsprettywideapart,andrubbinghishandsupanddowntheminhiscomfortablesatisfaction,ashelookedalternatelyatusandatthefire.‘Idoen’tknowbutIam.Not,yousee,tolookat.’

           ‘Notazackly,’observedPeggotty.

           ‘No,’laughedMr.Peggotty,‘nottolookat,buttotoconsideron,youknow.Idoen’tcare,blessyou!NowItellyou.WhenIgoalookingandlookingaboutthattheerprittyhouseofourEm’ly’s,I’mI’mGormed,’saidMr.Peggotty,withsuddenemphasis-‘theer!Ican’tsaymoreifIdoen’tfeelasifthelittlestthingswasher,a’most.Itakes‘emupandIput‘emdown,andItouchesof‘emasdelicateasiftheywasourEm’ly.So’tiswithherlittlebonnetsandthat.Icouldn’tseeoneon‘emroughusedapurposenotfurthewholewureld.

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