Девід Копперфільд

The Beginning of a Long Journey

           

           ‘MissMowcher!’saidI,afterglancingupanddowntheemptystreet,withoutdistinctlyknowingwhatIexpectedtoseebesides;‘howdoyoucomehere?Whatisthematter?’Shemotionedtomewithhershortrightarm,toshuttheumbrellaforher;andpassingmehurriedly,wentintothekitchen.WhenIhadclosedthedoor,andfollowed,withtheumbrellainmyhand,Ifoundhersittingonthecornerofthefenderitwasalowironone,withtwoflatbarsattoptostandplatesuponintheshadowoftheboiler,swayingherselfbackwardsandforwards,andchafingherhandsuponherkneeslikeapersoninpain.

           Quitealarmedatbeingtheonlyrecipientofthisuntimelyvisit,andtheonlyspectatorofthisportentousbehaviour,Iexclaimedagain,‘Praytellme,MissMowcher,whatisthematter!areyouill?’

           ‘Mydearyoungsoul,’returnedMissMowcher,squeezingherhandsuponherheartoneovertheother.‘Iamillhere,Iamveryill.Tothinkthatitshouldcometothis,whenImighthaveknownitandperhapspreventedit,ifIhadn’tbeenathoughtlessfool!’

           Againherlargebonnet(verydisproportionatetothefigure)wentbackwardsandforwards,inherswayingofherlittlebodytoandfro;whileamostgiganticbonnetrocked,inunisonwithit,uponthewall.

           ‘Iamsurprised,’Ibegan,‘toseeyousodistressedandserious’-whensheinterruptedme.

           ‘Yes,it’salwaysso!’shesaid.

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Roboto Lora
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