Дэвид Копперфильд

I Am a New Boy in More Senses than One

           Ah!It’sapity!Iamverysorry!’

           Whensheopenedhereyes,andsawwhereshewas,andthatwewereallstandingabouther,shearosewithassistance:turningherhead,asshedidso,tolayitontheDoctor’sshoulderortohideit,Idon’tknowwhich.Wewentintothedrawing-room,toleaveherwiththeDoctorandhermother;butshesaid,itseemed,thatshewasbetterthanshehadbeensincemorning,andthatshewouldratherbebroughtamongus;sotheybroughtherin,lookingverywhiteandweak,Ithought,andsatheronasofa.

           ‘Annie,mydear,’saidhermother,doingsomethingtoherdress.‘Seehere!Youhavelostabow.Willanybodybesogoodasfindaribbon;acherry-colouredribbon?’

           Itwastheoneshehadwornatherbosom.Wealllookedforit;Imyselflookedeverywhere,Iamcertainbutnobodycouldfindit.

           ‘Doyourecollectwhereyouhaditlast,Annie?’saidhermother.

           IwonderedhowIcouldhavethoughtshelookedwhite,oranythingbutburningred,whensheansweredthatshehadhaditsafe,alittlewhileago,shethought,butitwasnotworthlookingfor.

           Nevertheless,itwaslookedforagain,andstillnotfound.Sheentreatedthattheremightbenomoresearching;butitwasstillsoughtfor,inadesultoryway,untilshewasquitewell,andthecompanytooktheirdeparture.

           Wewalkedveryslowlyhome,Mr.Wickfield,Agnes,andIAgnesandIadmiringthemoonlight,andMr.

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