Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Involving another Journey, and an Antiquarian Discovery; Recording Mr. Pickwick’s Determination to b

           Hush!thebloodchillsatmyheartasIwriteitdownthatformisHERS;thefaceisverypale,andtheeyesareglassybright;butIknowthemwell.Thatfigurenevermoves;itneverfrownsandmouthsasothersdo,thatfillthisplacesometimes;butitismuchmoredreadfultome,eventhanthespiritsthattemptedmemanyyearsagoitcomesfreshfromthegrave;andissoverydeath-like.

           ‘FornearlyayearIsawthatfacegrowpaler;fornearlyayearIsawthetearsstealdownthemournfulcheeks,andneverknewthecause.Ifounditoutatlastthough.Theycouldnotkeepitfrommelong.Shehadneverlikedme;Ihadneverthoughtshedid:shedespisedmywealth,andhatedthesplendourinwhichshelived;butIhadnotexpectedthat.Shelovedanother.ThisIhadneverthoughtof.Strangefeelingscameoverme,andthoughts,forceduponmebysomesecretpower,whirledroundandroundmybrain.Ididnothateher,thoughIhatedtheboyshestillweptfor.Ipitiedyes,Ipitiedthewretchedlifetowhichhercoldandselfishrelationshaddoomedher.Iknewthatshecouldnotlivelong;butthethoughtthatbeforeherdeathshemightgivebirthtosomeill-fatedbeing,destinedtohanddownmadnesstoitsoffspring,determinedme.Iresolvedtokillher.

           ‘FormanyweeksIthoughtofpoison,andthenofdrowning,andthenoffire.Afinesight,thegrandhouseinflames,andthemadman’swifesmoulderingawaytocinders.

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