Крошка Доррит

Chapter 6. The Father of the Marshalsea

           Asthus:

           ‘MrsBangham,’saidthedoctor,beforehehadbeentheretwentyminutes,‘gooutsideandfetchalittlebrandy,orweshallhaveyougivingin.’

           ‘Thankyou,sir.Butnoneonmyaccounts,’saidMrsBangham.

           ‘MrsBangham,’returnedthedoctor,‘Iaminprofessionalattendanceonthislady,anddon’tchoosetoallowanydiscussiononyourpart.Gooutsideandfetchalittlebrandy,orIforeseethatyou’llbreakdown.’

           ‘You’retobeobeyed,sir,’saidMrsBangham,rising.‘Ifyouwastoputyourownlipstoit,Ithinkyouwouldn’tbetheworse,foryoulookbutpoorly,sir.’

           ‘MrsBangham,’returnedthedoctor,‘Iamnotyourbusiness,thankyou,butyouaremine.Neveryoumindme,ifyouplease.Whatyouhavegottodo,is,todoasyouaretold,andtogoandgetwhatIbidyou.’

           MrsBanghamsubmitted;andthedoctor,havingadministeredherpotion,tookhisown.Herepeatedthetreatmenteveryhour,beingverydeterminedwithMrsBangham.Threeorfourhourspassed;thefliesfellintothetrapsbyhundreds;andatlengthonelittlelife,hardlystrongerthantheirs,appearedamongthemultitudeoflesserdeaths.

           ‘Averynicelittlegirlindeed,’saidthedoctor;‘little,butwell-formed.Halloa,MrsBangham!You’relookingqueer!Youbeoff,ma’am,thisminute,andfetchalittlemorebrandy,orweshallhaveyouinhysterics.’

           Bythistime,theringshadbeguntofallfromthedebtor’sirresolutehands,likeleavesfromawintrytree.Notonewasleftuponthemthatnight,whenheputsomethingthatchinkedintothedoctor’sgreasypalm.

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