Дэвид Копперфильд

I Fall into Disgrace

           Shedidthishurriedlyandsecretly,asifitwerewrong,buttenderly;and,puttingoutherhandbehindher,heldmineinit,untilwecameneartowherehewasstandinginthegarden,wheresheletminego,anddrewhersthroughhisarm.

           ItwasMissMurdstonewhowasarrived,andagloomy-lookingladyshewas;dark,likeherbrother,whomshegreatlyresembledinfaceandvoice;andwithveryheavyeyebrows,nearlymeetingoverherlargenose,asif,beingdisabledbythewrongsofhersexfromwearingwhiskers,shehadcarriedthemtothataccount.Shebroughtwithhertwouncompromisinghardblackboxes,withherinitialsonthelidsinhardbrassnails.Whenshepaidthecoachmanshetookhermoneyoutofahardsteelpurse,andshekeptthepurseinaveryjailofabagwhichhunguponherarmbyaheavychain,andshutuplikeabite.Ihadnever,atthattime,seensuchametallicladyaltogetherasMissMurdstonewas.

           Shewasbroughtintotheparlourwithmanytokensofwelcome,andthereformallyrecognizedmymotherasanewandnearrelation.Thenshelookedatme,andsaid:

           ‘Isthatyourboy,sister-in-law?’

           Mymotheracknowledgedme.

           ‘Generallyspeaking,’saidMissMurdstone,‘Idon’tlikeboys.

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