Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 4. A Letter from Little Dorrit

           Forinstance,whenwewereamongthemountains,Ioftenfelt(Ihesitatetotellsuchanidlething,dearMrClennam,eventoyou)asiftheMarshalseamustbebehindthatgreatrock;orasifMrsClennam’sroomwhereIhaveworkedsomanydays,andwhereIfirstsawyou,mustbejustbeyondthatsnow.DoyourememberonenightwhenIcamewithMaggytoyourlodginginCoventGarden?ThatroomIhaveoftenandoftenfanciedIhaveseenbeforeme,travellingalongformilesbythesideofourcarriage,whenIhavelookedoutofthecarriage-windowafterdark.Wewereshutoutthatnight,andsatattheirongate,andwalkedabouttillmorning.Ioftenlookupatthestars,evenfromthebalconyofthisroom,andbelievethatIaminthestreetagain,shutoutwithMaggy.ItisthesamewithpeoplethatIleftinEngland.

           WhenIgoabouthereinagondola,IsurprisemyselflookingintoothergondolasasifIhopedtoseethem.Itwouldovercomemewithjoytoseethem,butIdon’tthinkitwouldsurprisememuch,atfirst.Inmyfancifultimes,Ifancythattheymightbeanywhere;andIalmostexpecttoseetheirdearfacesonthebridgesorthequays.

           AnotherdifficultythatIhavewillseemverystrangetoyou.Itmustseemverystrangetoanyonebutme,anddoeseventome:Ioftenfeeltheoldsadpityfor—Ineednotwritetheword—forhim.Changedasheis,andinexpressiblyblestandthankfulasIalwaysamtoknowit,theoldsorrowfulfeelingofcompassioncomesuponmesometimeswithsuchstrengththatIwanttoputmyarmsroundhisneck,tellhimhowIlovehim,andcryalittleonhisbreast.

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