Дэвид Копперфильд

My Aunt Astonishes Me

           

           ‘ThenifyouWOULDbegoodenough,’saidTraddlestoPeggotty,‘togettheflower-potnow,IthinkIshouldlike(itbeingSophy’s,Copperfield)tocarryithomemyself!’

           Peggottywasgladtogetitforhim,andheoverwhelmedherwiththanks,andwenthiswayupTottenhamCourtRoad,carryingtheflower-potaffectionatelyinhisarms,withoneofthemostdelightedexpressionsofcountenanceIeversaw.

           Wethenturnedbacktowardsmychambers.AstheshopshadcharmsforPeggottywhichIneverknewthempossessinthesamedegreeforanybodyelse,Isaunteredeasilyalong,amusedbyherstaringinatthewindows,andwaitingforherasoftenasshechose.WewerethusagoodwhileingettingtotheAdelphi.

           Onourwayupstairs,IcalledherattentiontothesuddendisappearanceofMrs.Crupp’spitfalls,andalsototheprintsofrecentfootsteps.Wewerebothverymuchsurprised,cominghigherup,tofindmyouterdoorstandingopen(whichIhadshut)andtohearvoicesinside.

           Welookedatoneanother,withoutknowingwhattomakeofthis,andwentintothesitting-room.Whatwasmyamazementtofind,ofallpeopleuponearth,myauntthere,andMr.Dick!Myauntsittingonaquantityofluggage,withhertwobirdsbeforeher,andhercatonherknee,likeafemaleRobinsonCrusoe,drinkingtea.Mr.

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