Дэвид Копперфильд

I Fall into Captivity

           IhadnoconsolationinseeinghowdifferentshewasfromthisdetestableRufuswiththemulberry-colouredgreat-coat,forIfeltthatintheverydifferencebetweenthem,intheself-denialofherpuresoulandthesordidbasenessofhis,thegreatestdangerlay.Allthis,doubtless,heknewthoroughly,andhad,inhiscunning,consideredwell.

           YetIwassocertainthattheprospectofsuchasacrificeafaroff,mustdestroythehappinessofAgnes;andIwassosure,fromhermanner,ofitsbeingunseenbyherthen,andhavingcastnoshadowonheryet;thatIcouldassoonhaveinjuredher,asgivenheranywarningofwhatimpended.Thusitwasthatwepartedwithoutexplanation:shewavingherhandandsmilingfarewellfromthecoachwindow;herevilgeniuswrithingontheroof,asifhehadherinhisclutchesandtriumphed.

           Icouldnotgetoverthisfarewellglimpseofthemforalongtime.WhenAgneswrotetotellmeofhersafearrival,IwasasmiserableaswhenIsawhergoingaway.WheneverIfellintoathoughtfulstate,thissubjectwassuretopresentitself,andallmyuneasinesswassuretoberedoubled.Hardlyanightpassedwithoutmydreamingofit.Itbecameapartofmylife,andasinseparablefrommylifeasmyownhead.

           Ihadampleleisuretorefineuponmyuneasiness:forSteerforthwasatOxford,ashewrotetome,andwhenIwasnotattheCommons,Iwasverymuchalone.IbelieveIhadatthistimesomelurkingdistrustofSteerforth.

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