Дэвид Копперфильд

My ‘First Half’ at Salem House

           

           Withoutconsidering,perhaps,whethertherewereanyconsequencestobetaken,Ifeltquiteinaglowatthisgallantspeech.Itmadeanimpressionontheboystoo,fortherewasalowstiramongthem,thoughnoonespokeaword.

           ‘Iamsurprised,Steerforth—althoughyourcandourdoesyouhonour,’saidMr.Creakle,‘doesyouhonour,certainlyIamsurprised,Steerforth,Imustsay,thatyoushouldattachsuchanepithettoanypersonemployedandpaidinSalemHouse,sir.’

           Steerforthgaveashortlaugh.

           ‘That’snotananswer,sir,’saidMr.Creakle,‘tomyremark.Iexpectmorethanthatfromyou,Steerforth.’

           IfMr.Melllookedhomely,inmyeyes,beforethehandsomeboy,itwouldbequiteimpossibletosayhowhomelyMr.Creaklelooked.‘Lethimdenyit,’saidSteerforth.

           ‘Denythatheisabeggar,Steerforth?’criedMr.Creakle.‘Why,wheredoeshegoa-begging?’

           ‘Ifheisnotabeggarhimself,hisnearrelation’sone,’saidSteerforth.‘It’sallthesame.’

           Heglancedatme,andMr.Mell’shandgentlypattedmeupontheshoulder.Ilookedupwithaflushuponmyfaceandremorseinmyheart,butMr.Mell’seyeswerefixedonSteerforth.Hecontinuedtopatmekindlyontheshoulder,buthelookedathim.

           ‘Sinceyouexpectme,Mr.

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