Дэвид Копперфильд

I Enlarge My Circle of Acquaintance

           Creakleashesaidthis‘whenitrisesagainstme,isnotmyfleshandblood.Idiscardit.Hasthatfellow’tothemanwiththewoodenleg‘beenhereagain?’

           ‘No,’wastheanswer.

           ‘No,’saidMr.Creakle.‘Heknowsbetter.Heknowsme.Lethimkeepaway.Isaylethimkeepaway,’saidMr.Creakle,strikinghishanduponthetable,andlookingatMrs.Creakle,‘forheknowsme.Nowyouhavebeguntoknowmetoo,myyoungfriend,andyoumaygo.Takehimaway.’

           Iwasverygladtobeorderedaway,forMrs.andMissCreaklewerebothwipingtheireyes,andIfeltasuncomfortableforthemasIdidformyself.ButIhadapetitiononmymindwhichconcernedmesonearly,thatIcouldn’thelpsaying,thoughIwonderedatmyowncourage:

           ‘Ifyouplease,sir

           Mr.Creaklewhispered,‘Hah!What’sthis?’andbenthiseyesuponme,asifhewouldhaveburntmeupwiththem.

           ‘Ifyouplease,sir,’Ifaltered,‘ifImightbeallowed(Iamverysorryindeed,sir,forwhatIdid)totakethiswritingoff,beforetheboyscomeback

           WhetherMr.

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Roboto Lora
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