Девід Копперфільд

Mischief

           

           ‘Bymylook?Dearme,Copperfield,that’ssharppractice!WhatdoImeanbymylook?’

           ‘Yes,’saidI.‘Byyourlook.’

           Heseemedverymuchamused,andlaughedasheartilyasitwasinhisnaturetolaugh.Aftersomescrapingofhischinwithhishand,hewentontosay,withhiseyescastdownwardstillscraping,veryslowly:

           ‘WhenIwasbutanumbleclerk,shealwayslookeddownuponme.ShewasforeverhavingmyAgnesbackwardsandforwardsatherouse,andshewasforeverbeingafriendtoyou,MasterCopperfield;butIwastoofarbeneathher,myself,tobenoticed.’

           ‘Well?’saidI;‘supposeyouwere!’

           ‘-Andbeneathhimtoo,’pursuedUriah,verydistinctly,andinameditativetoneofvoice,ashecontinuedtoscrapehischin.

           ‘Don’tyouknowtheDoctorbetter,’saidI,‘thantosupposehimconsciousofyourexistence,whenyouwerenotbeforehim?’

           Hedirectedhiseyesatmeinthatsidelongglanceagain,andhemadehisfaceverylantern-jawed,forthegreaterconvenienceofscraping,asheanswered:

           ‘Ohdear,IamnotreferringtotheDoctor!Ohno,poorman!ImeanMr.Maldon!’

           Myheartquitediedwithinme.

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Roboto Lora
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