Дэвид Копперфильд

Agnes

           IsummonedalltheresolutionsIhadmade,inallthosemanydaysandnights,andallthosemanyconflictsofmyheart.

           ‘Ifitshouldbeso,’Ibegan,‘andIhopeitis-’

           ‘Idon’tknowthatitis,’saidmyauntcurtly.‘Youmustnotberuledbymysuspicions.Youmustkeepthemsecret.Theyareveryslight,perhaps.Ihavenorighttospeak.’

           ‘Ifitshouldbeso,’Irepeated,‘Agneswilltellmeatherowngoodtime.AsistertowhomIhaveconfidedsomuch,aunt,willnotbereluctanttoconfideinme.’

           Myauntwithdrewhereyesfrommine,asslowlyasshehadturnedthemuponme;andcoveredthemthoughtfullywithherhand.Byandbysheputherotherhandonmyshoulder;andsowebothsat,lookingintothepast,withoutsayinganotherword,untilwepartedforthenight.

           Irodeaway,earlyinthemorning,forthesceneofmyoldschool-days.IcannotsaythatIwasyetquitehappy,inthehopethatIwasgainingavictoryovermyself;evenintheprospectofsosoonlookingonherfaceagain.

           Thewell-rememberedgroundwassoontraversed,andIcameintothequietstreets,whereeverystonewasaboy’sbooktome.Iwentonfoottotheoldhouse,andwentawaywithahearttoofulltoenter.Ireturned;andlooking,asIpassed,throughthelowwindowoftheturret-roomwherefirstUriahHeep,andafterwardsMr.Micawber,hadbeenwonttosit,sawthatitwasalittleparlournow,andthattherewasnooffice.

Настройки
Фон страницы
Размер шрифта
Межстрочный интервал
Фразовые глаголы
Показать / Скрыть меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Страница 1354 из 1418