Дэвид Копперфильд

Wickfield and Heep

           PoorDora!’

           Ineverheardsuchsweetforbearingkindnessexpressedinavoice,assheexpressedinmakingthisreply.ItwasasifIhadseenheradmiringlyandtenderlyembracingDora,andtacitlyreprovingme,byherconsiderateprotection,formyhothasteinflutteringthatlittleheart.ItwasasifIhadseenDora,inallherfascinatingartlessness,caressingAgnes,andthankingher,andcoaxinglyappealingagainstme,andlovingmewithallherchildishinnocence.

           IfeltsogratefultoAgnes,andadmiredherso!Isawthosetwotogether,inabrightperspective,suchwell-associatedfriends,eachadorningtheothersomuch!

           ‘WhatoughtItodothen,Agnes?’Iinquired,afterlookingatthefirealittlewhile.‘Whatwoulditberighttodo?’

           ‘Ithink,’saidAgnes,‘thatthehonourablecoursetotake,wouldbetowritetothosetwoladies.Don’tyouthinkthatanysecretcourseisanunworthyone?’

           ‘Yes.IfYOUthinkso,’saidI.

           ‘Iampoorlyqualifiedtojudgeofsuchmatters,’repliedAgnes,withamodesthesitation,‘butIcertainlyfeelinshort,Ifeelthatyourbeingsecretandclandestine,isnotbeinglikeyourself.’

           ‘Likemyself,inthetoohighopinionyouhaveofme,Agnes,Iamafraid,’saidI.

           ‘Likeyourself,inthecandourofyournature,’shereturned;‘andthereforeIwouldwritetothosetwoladies.

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