Девід Копперфільд

Intelligence

           

           ‘Sheisdead,perhaps,’saidMissDartle,withasmile,asifshecouldhavespurnedthebodyoftheruinedgirl.

           ‘Shemayhavedrownedherself,miss,’returnedMr.Littimer,catchingatanexcuseforaddressinghimselftosomebody.‘It’sverypossible.Or,shemayhavehadassistancefromtheboatmen,andtheboatmen’swivesandchildren.Beinggiventolowcompany,shewasverymuchinthehabitoftalkingtothemonthebeach,MissDartle,andsittingbytheirboats.Ihaveknownherdoit,whenMr.Jameshasbeenaway,wholedays.Mr.Jameswasfarfrompleasedtofindout,once,thatshehadtoldthechildrenshewasaboatman’sdaughter,andthatinherowncountry,longago,shehadroamedaboutthebeach,likethem.’

           Oh,Emily!Unhappybeauty!Whatapicturerosebeforemeofhersittingonthefar-offshore,amongthechildrenlikeherselfwhenshewasinnocent,listeningtolittlevoicessuchasmighthavecalledherMotherhadshebeenapoorman’swife;andtothegreatvoiceofthesea,withitseternal‘Nevermore!’

           ‘Whenitwasclearthatnothingcouldbedone,MissDartle

           ‘DidItellyounottospeaktome?’shesaid,withsterncontempt.

           ‘Youspoketome,miss,’hereplied.‘Ibegyourpardon.Butitismyservicetoobey.’

           ‘Doyourservice,’shereturned.

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Roboto Lora
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