Дэвид Копперфильд

The Beginning of a Long Journey

           Ifyoucanlayitoutforhim,Ishalldomyworkwithabetterart.Thoughastothat,sir,’andhespokeverysteadilyandmildly,‘you’renottothinkbutIshallworkatalltimes,likeaman,andactthebestthatlaysinmypower!’

           ItoldhimIwaswellconvincedofit;andIhintedthatIhopedthetimemightevencome,whenhewouldceasetoleadthelonelylifehenaturallycontemplatednow.

           ‘No,sir,’hesaid,shakinghishead,‘allthat’spastandoverwithme,sir.Noonecanneverfilltheplacethat’sempty.Butyou’llbearinmindaboutthemoney,astheer’satalltimessomelayingbyforhim?’

           Remindinghimofthefact,thatMr.Peggottyderivedasteady,thoughcertainlyaverymoderateincomefromthebequestofhislatebrother-in-law,Ipromisedtodoso.Wethentookleaveofeachother.Icannotleavehimevennow,withoutrememberingwithapang,atoncehismodestfortitudeandhisgreatsorrow.

           AstoMrs.Gummidge,ifIweretoendeavourtodescribehowsherandownthestreetbythesideofthecoach,seeingnothingbutMr.Peggottyontheroof,throughthetearsshetriedtorepress,anddashingherselfagainstthepeoplewhowerecomingintheoppositedirection,Ishouldenteronataskofsomedifficulty.ThereforeIhadbetterleavehersittingonabaker’sdoor-step,outofbreath,withnoshapeatallremaininginherbonnet,andoneofhershoesoff,lyingonthepavementataconsiderabledistance.

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