Девід Копперфільд

The New Wound, and the Old

           Lethermoanfortheharvestthatshereapstoday!’

           ‘AndifhisfaultsIbegan.

           ‘Faults!’shecried,burstingintopassionatetears.‘Whodaresmalignhim?Hehadasoulworthmillionsofthefriendstowhomhestooped!’

           ‘Noonecanhavelovedhimbetter,noonecanholdhimindearerremembrancethanI,’Ireplied.‘Imeanttosay,ifyouhavenocompassionforhismother;orifhisfaultsyouhavebeenbitteronthem

           ‘It’sfalse,’shecried,tearingherblackhair;‘Ilovedhim!’

           ‘-ifhisfaultscannot,’Iwenton,‘bebanishedfromyourremembrance,insuchanhour;lookatthatfigure,evenasoneyouhaveneverseenbefore,andrenderitsomehelp!’

           Allthistime,thefigurewasunchanged,andlookedunchangeable.Motionless,rigid,staring;moaninginthesamedumbwayfromtimetotime,withthesamehelplessmotionofthehead;butgivingnoothersignoflife.MissDartlesuddenlykneeleddownbeforeit,andbegantoloosenthedress.

           ‘Acurseuponyou!’shesaid,lookingroundatme,withamingledexpressionofrageandgrief.‘Itwasinanevilhourthatyouevercamehere!Acurseuponyou!Go!’

           Afterpassingoutoftheroom,Ihurriedbacktoringthebell,thesoonertoalarmtheservants

Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 1294 з 1418