Крошка Доррит

Chapter 19. The Storming of the Castle in the Air

           Quietly,quietly,thefacesubsidedintoafaryoungerlikenessofherownthanshehadeverseenunderthegreyhair,andsanktorest.

           Atfirstherunclewasstarkdistracted.‘Omybrother!OWilliam,William!Youtogobeforeme;youtogoalone;youtogo,andItoremain!You,sofarsuperior,sodistinguished,sonoble;I,apooruselesscreaturefitfornothing,andwhomnoonewouldhavemissed!’

           Itdidher,forthetime,thegoodofhavinghimtothinkofandtosuccour.

           ‘Uncle,dearuncle,spareyourself,spareme!’

           Theoldmanwasnotdeaftothelastwords.Whenhedidbegintorestrainhimself,itwasthathemightspareher.Hehadnocareforhimself;but,withalltheremainingpowerofthehonestheart,stunnedsolongandnowawakingtobebroken,hehonouredandblessedher.

           ‘OGod,’hecried,beforetheylefttheroom,withhiswrinkledhandsclaspedoverher.‘Thouseestthisdaughterofmydeardeadbrother!AllthatIhavelookedupon,withmyhalf-blindandsinfuleyes,Thouhastdiscernedclearly,brightly.NotahairofherheadshallbeharmedbeforeThee.Thouwiltupholdherheretoherlasthour.AndIknowThouwiltrewardherhereafter!’

           Theyremainedinadimroomnear,untilitwasalmostmidnight,quietandsadtogether.Attimeshisgriefwouldseekreliefinaburstlikethatinwhichithadfounditsearliestexpression;but,besidesthathislittlestrengthwouldsoonhavebeenunequaltosuchstrains,heneverfailedtorecallherwords,andtoreproachhimselfandcalmhimself

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