Девід Копперфільд

Mr. Micawber’s Transactions

           

           ‘But,’saidTraddles,‘thesurplusthatwouldbeleftashismeansofsupport—andIsupposethehousetobesold,eveninsayingthis—wouldbesosmall,notexceedinginallprobabilitysomehundredsofpounds,thatperhaps,MissWickfield,itwouldbebesttoconsiderwhetherhemightnotretainhisagencyoftheestatetowhichhehassolongbeenreceiver.Hisfriendsmightadvisehim,youknow;nowheisfree.Youyourself,MissWickfield—CopperfieldI—’

           ‘Ihaveconsideredit,Trotwood,’saidAgnes,lookingtome,‘andIfeelthatitoughtnottobe,andmustnotbe;evenontherecommendationofafriendtowhomIamsograteful,andowesomuch.’

           ‘IwillnotsaythatIrecommendit,’observedTraddles.‘Ithinkitrighttosuggestit.Nomore.’

           ‘Iamhappytohearyousayso,’answeredAgnes,steadily,‘foritgivesmehope,almostassurance,thatwethinkalike.DearMr.TraddlesanddearTrotwood,papaoncefreewithhonour,whatcouldIwishfor!Ihavealwaysaspired,ifIcouldhavereleasedhimfromthetoilsinwhichhewasheld,torenderbacksomelittleportionoftheloveandcareIowehim,andtodevotemylifetohim.Ithasbeen,foryears,theutmostheightofmyhopes.Totakeourfutureonmyself,willbethenextgreathappiness—thenexttohisreleasefromalltrustandresponsibility—thatIcanknow.’

           ‘Haveyouthoughthow,Agnes?’

           ‘Often!Iamnotafraid,dearTrotwood.

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