Крошка Доррит

Chapter 1. Sun and Shadow

           ‘Ihavebroughtyourbread,SignorJohnBaptist,’saidhe(theyallspokeinFrench,butthelittlemanwasanItalian);‘andifImightrecommendyounottogame—’

           ‘Youdon’trecommendthemaster!’saidJohnBaptist,showinghisteethashesmiled.

           ‘Oh!butthemasterwins,’returnedthejailer,withapassinglookofnoparticularlikingattheotherman,‘andyoulose.It’squiteanotherthing.Yougethuskybreadandsourdrinkbyit;andhegetssausageofLyons,vealinsavouryjelly,whitebread,strachinocheese,andgoodwinebyit.Lookatthebirds,mypretty!’

           ‘Poorbirds!’saidthechild.

           Thefairlittleface,touchedwithdivinecompassion,asitpeepedshrinkinglythroughthegrate,waslikeanangel’sintheprison.JohnBaptistroseandmovedtowardsit,asifithadagoodattractionforhim.Theotherbirdremainedasbefore,exceptforanimpatientglanceatthebasket.

           ‘Stay!’saidthejailer,puttinghislittledaughterontheouterledgeofthegrate,‘sheshallfeedthebirds.ThisbigloafisforSignorJohnBaptist.Wemustbreakittogetitthroughintothecage.So,there’satamebirdtokissthelittlehand!ThissausageinavineleafisforMonsieurRigaud.Again—thisvealinsavouryjellyisforMonsieurRigaud.Again—thesethreewhitelittleloavesareforMonsieurRigaud.Again,thischeese—again,thiswine—again,thistobacco—allforMonsieurRigaud.

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