Дэвид Копперфильд

My Aunt Astonishes Me

           Anicebusinesswemadeofitthen!Trot,mydear,anothercup.’

           Ihandeditdutifullytomyaunt,whowasinherusualinflexiblestateoffigure;andventuredaremonstrancewithheronthesubjectofhersittingonabox.

           ‘Letmedrawthesofahere,ortheeasy-chair,aunt,’saidI.‘Whyshouldyoubesouncomfortable?’

           ‘Thankyou,Trot,’repliedmyaunt,‘Iprefertosituponmyproperty.’HeremyauntlookedhardatMrs.Crupp,andobserved,‘Weneedn’ttroubleyoutowait,ma’am.’

           ‘ShallIputalittlemoreteainthepotaforeIgo,ma’am?’saidMrs.Crupp.

           ‘No,Ithankyou,ma’am,’repliedmyaunt.

           ‘Wouldyouletmefetchanotherpatofbutter,ma’am?’saidMrs.Crupp.‘Orwouldyoubepersuadedtotryanew-laidhegg?orshouldIbrilearasher?Ain’ttherenothingIcoulddoforyourdearaunt,Mr.Copperfull?’

           ‘Nothing,ma’am,’returnedmyaunt.‘Ishalldoverywell,Ithankyou.’

           Mrs.Crupp,whohadbeenincessantlysmilingtoexpresssweettemper,andincessantlyholdingherheadononeside,toexpressageneralfeeblenessofconstitution,andincessantlyrubbingherhands,toexpressadesiretobeofservicetoalldeservingobjects,graduallysmiledherself,one-sidedherself,andrubbedherself,outoftheroom.‘Dick!’saidmyaunt.‘YouknowwhatItoldyouabouttime-serversandwealth-worshippers?’

           Mr.

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