Дэвид Копперфильд

Another Retrospect

           

           ‘Oh,Ishallsoondothat!Iamsomuchbetter,youdon’tknow!’

           Itisevening;andIsitinthesamechair,bythesamebed,withthesamefaceturnedtowardsme.Wehavebeensilent,andthereisasmileuponherface.Ihaveceasedtocarrymylightburdenupanddownstairsnow.Sheliesherealltheday.

           ‘Doady!’

           ‘MydearDora!’

           ‘Youwon’tthinkwhatIamgoingtosay,unreasonable,afterwhatyoutoldme,suchalittlewhileago,ofMr.Wickfield’snotbeingwell?IwanttoseeAgnes.VerymuchIwanttoseeher.’

           ‘Iwillwritetoher,mydear.’

           ‘Willyou?’

           ‘Directly.’

           ‘Whatagood,kindboy!Doady,takemeonyourarm.Indeed,mydear,it’snotawhim.It’snotafoolishfancy.Iwant,verymuchindeed,toseeher!’

           ‘Iamcertainofit.Ihaveonlytotellherso,andsheissuretocome.’

           ‘Youareverylonelywhenyougodownstairs,now?’Dorawhispers,withherarmaboutmyneck.

           ‘HowcanIbeotherwise,myownlove,whenIseeyouremptychair?’

           ‘Myemptychair!’Sheclingstomeforalittlewhile,insilence.‘Andyoureallymissme,Doady?’lookingup,andbrightlysmiling.

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Roboto Lora
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