Дэвид Копперфильд

The Sequel of My Resolution

           Ionlyhope,’saidmyaunt,shakingherhead,‘thatherhusbandisoneofthosePokerhusbandswhoaboundinthenewspapers,andwillbeatherwellwithone.’

           Icouldnotbeartohearmyoldnursesodecried,andmadethesubjectofsuchawish.Itoldmyauntthatindeedshewasmistaken.ThatPeggottywasthebest,thetruest,themostfaithful,mostdevoted,andmostself-denyingfriendandservantintheworld;whohadeverlovedmedearly,whohadeverlovedmymotherdearly;whohadheldmymother’sdyingheaduponherarm,onwhosefacemymotherhadimprintedherlastgratefulkiss.Andmyremembranceofthemboth,chokingme,IbrokedownasIwastryingtosaythatherhomewasmyhome,andthatallshehadwasmine,andthatIwouldhavegonetoherforshelter,butforherhumblestation,whichmademefearthatImightbringsometroubleonher-Ibrokedown,Isay,asIwastryingtosayso,andlaidmyfaceinmyhandsuponthetable.

           ‘Well,well!’saidmyaunt,‘thechildisrighttostandbythosewhohavestoodbyhimJanet!Donkeys!’

           Ithoroughlybelievethatbutforthoseunfortunatedonkeys,weshouldhavecometoagoodunderstanding;formyaunthadlaidherhandonmyshoulder,andtheimpulsewasuponme,thusemboldened,toembraceherandbeseechherprotection.Buttheinterruption,andthedisordershewasthrownintobythestruggleoutside,putanendtoallsofterideasforthepresent,andkeptmyauntindignantlydeclaimingtoMr.

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Roboto Lora
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