Дэвид Копперфильд

The Beginning of a Long Journey

           

           Yes,Steerforth,longremovedfromthescenesofthispoorhistory!MysorrowmaybearinvoluntarywitnessagainstyouatthejudgementThrone;butmyangrythoughtsormyreproachesneverwill,Iknow!

           Thenewsofwhathadhappenedsoonspreadthroughthetown;insomuchthatasIpassedalongthestreetsnextmorning,Ioverheardthepeoplespeakingofitattheirdoors.Manywereharduponher,somefewwereharduponhim,buttowardshersecondfatherandherlovertherewasbutonesentiment.Amongallkindsofpeoplearespectforthemintheirdistressprevailed,whichwasfullofgentlenessanddelicacy.Theseafaringmenkeptapart,whenthosetwowereseenearly,walkingwithslowstepsonthebeach;andstoodinknots,talkingcompassionatelyamongthemselves.

           Itwasonthebeach,closedownbythesea,thatIfoundthem.Itwouldhavebeeneasytoperceivethattheyhadnotsleptalllastnight,evenifPeggottyhadfailedtotellmeoftheirstillsittingjustasIleftthem,whenitwasbroadday.Theylookedworn;andIthoughtMr.Peggotty’sheadwasbowedinonenightmorethaninalltheyearsIhadknownhim.Buttheywerebothasgraveandsteadyastheseaitself,thenlyingbeneathadarksky,wavelessyetwithaheavyrolluponit,asifitbreathedinitsrestandtouched,onthehorizon,withastripofsilverylightfromtheunseensun.

           ‘Wehavehadamortoftalk,sir,’saidMr.

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