Дэвид Копперфильд

A Last Retrospect

           Histableiscoveredwiththickpilesofpapers;andIsay,asIlookaroundme:

           ‘IfSophywereyourclerk,now,Traddles,shewouldhaveenoughtodo!’

           ‘Youmaysaythat,mydearCopperfield!Butthosewerecapitaldays,too,inHolbornCourt!Weretheynot?’

           ‘Whenshetoldyouyouwouldbeajudge?Butitwasnotthetowntalkthen!’

           ‘Atallevents,’saysTraddles,‘ifIeveramone‘Why,youknowyouwillbe.’

           ‘Well,mydearCopperfield,WHENIamone,Ishalltellthestory,asIsaidIwould.’

           Wewalkaway,arminarm.IamgoingtohaveafamilydinnerwithTraddles.ItisSophy’sbirthday;and,onourroad,Traddlesdiscoursestomeofthegoodfortunehehasenjoyed.

           ‘Ireallyhavebeenable,mydearCopperfield,todoallthatIhadmostatheart.There’stheReverendHoracepromotedtothatlivingatfourhundredandfiftypoundsayear;thereareourtwoboysreceivingtheverybesteducation,anddistinguishingthemselvesassteadyscholarsandgoodfellows;therearethreeofthegirlsmarriedverycomfortably;therearethreemorelivingwithus;therearethreemorekeepinghousefortheReverendHoracesinceMrs.Crewler’sdecease;andallofthemhappy.’

           ‘ExceptIsuggest.

           ‘ExcepttheBeauty,’saysTraddles.‘Yes.Itwasveryunfortunatethatsheshouldmarrysuchavagabond.

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