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I Am Born

           MyfatherhadoftenhintedthatsheseldomconductedherselflikeanyordinaryChristian;andnow,insteadofringingthebell,shecameandlookedinatthatidenticalwindow,pressingtheendofhernoseagainsttheglasstothatextent,thatmypoordearmotherusedtosayitbecameperfectlyflatandwhiteinamoment.

           Shegavemymothersuchaturn,thatIhavealwaysbeenconvincedIamindebtedtoMissBetseyforhavingbeenbornonaFriday.

           Mymotherhadleftherchairinheragitation,andgonebehinditinthecorner.MissBetsey,lookingroundtheroom,slowlyandinquiringly,beganontheotherside,andcarriedhereyeson,likeaSaracen’sHeadinaDutchclock,untiltheyreachedmymother.Thenshemadeafrownandagesturetomymother,likeonewhowasaccustomedtobeobeyed,tocomeandopenthedoor.Mymotherwent.

           ‘Mrs.DavidCopperfield,Ithink,’saidMissBetsey;theemphasisreferring,perhaps,tomymother’smourningweeds,andhercondition.

           ‘Yes,’saidmymother,faintly.

           ‘MissTrotwood,’saidthevisitor.‘Youhaveheardofher,Idaresay?’

           Mymotheransweredshehadhadthatpleasure.Andshehadadisagreeableconsciousnessofnotappearingtoimplythatithadbeenanoverpoweringpleasure.

           ‘Nowyouseeher,’saidMissBetsey.Mymotherbentherhead,andbeggedhertowalkin.

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Roboto Lora
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Сторінка 6 з 1418