Дэвид Копперфильд

Wickfield and Heep

           ‘Oh,butyouknow,’returnedUriah,withagrin,‘Ishouldreallybedelighted!’

           Tocutthemattershort,IsaidIwouldhavetheotherroomornoneatall;soitwassettledthatIshouldhavetheotherroom;and,takingmyleaveofthefirmuntildinner,Iwentupstairsagain.

           IhadhopedtohavenoothercompanionthanAgnes.ButMrs.Heephadaskedpermissiontobringherselfandherknittingnearthefire,inthatroom;onpretenceofitshavinganaspectmorefavourableforherrheumatics,asthewindthenwas,thanthedrawing-roomordining-parlour.ThoughIcouldalmosthaveconsignedhertothemerciesofthewindonthetopmostpinnacleoftheCathedral,withoutremorse,Imadeavirtueofnecessity,andgaveherafriendlysalutation.

           ‘I’mumblythankfultoyou,sir,’saidMrs.Heep,inacknowledgementofmyinquiriesconcerningherhealth,‘butI’monlyprettywell.Ihaven’tmuchtoboastof.IfIcouldseemyUriahwellsettledinlife,Icouldn’texpectmuchmoreIthink.HowdoyouthinkmyUrylooking,sir?’

           Ithoughthimlookingasvillainousasever,andIrepliedthatIsawnochangeinhim.

           ‘Oh,don’tyouthinkhe’schanged?’saidMrs.Heep.‘ThereImustumblybegleavetodifferfromyou.Don’tyouseeathinnessinhim?’

           ‘Notmorethanusual,’Ireplied.

           ‘Don’tyouthough!’saidMrs.Heep.

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