Дэвид Копперфильд

A Little Cold Water

           

           ‘And,mydear!’whisperedPeggotty,‘telltheprettylittleangelthatIshouldsohavelikedtoseeher,onlyforaminute!Andtellherthatbeforeshemarriesmyboy,I’llcomeandmakeyourhousesobeautifulforyou,ifyou’llletme!’

           Ideclaredthatnobodyelseshouldtouchit;andthisgavePeggottysuchdelightthatshewentawayingoodspirits.

           IfatiguedmyselfasmuchasIpossiblycouldintheCommonsallday,byavarietyofdevices,andattheappointedtimeintheeveningrepairedtoMr.Mills’sstreet.Mr.Mills,whowasaterriblefellowtofallasleepafterdinner,hadnotyetgoneout,andtherewasnobird-cageinthemiddlewindow.

           Hekeptmewaitingsolong,thatIferventlyhopedtheClubwouldfinehimforbeinglate.Atlasthecameout;andthenIsawmyownDorahangupthebird-cage,andpeepintothebalconytolookforme,andruninagainwhenshesawIwasthere,whileJipremainedbehind,tobarkinjuriouslyatanimmensebutcher’sdoginthestreet,whocouldhavetakenhimlikeapill.

           Doracametothedrawing-roomdoortomeetme;andJipcamescramblingout,tumblingoverhisowngrowls,undertheimpressionthatIwasaBandit;andweallthreewentin,ashappyandlovingascouldbe.

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