Дэвид Копперфильд

Dora’s Aunts

           Sometimes,forexample,whenwepassedabutcher’sshop,Iwouldsay:

           ‘Nowsuppose,mypet,thatweweremarried,andyouweregoingtobuyashoulderofmuttonfordinner,wouldyouknowhowtobuyit?’

           MyprettylittleDora’sfacewouldfall,andshewouldmakehermouthintoabudagain,asifshewouldverymuchprefertoshutminewithakiss.

           ‘Wouldyouknowhowtobuyit,mydarling?’Iwouldrepeat,perhaps,ifIwereveryinflexible.

           Dorawouldthinkalittle,andthenreply,perhaps,withgreattriumph:

           ‘Why,thebutcherwouldknowhowtosellit,andwhatneedIknow?Oh,yousillyboy!’

           So,whenIonceaskedDora,withaneyetothecookery-book,whatshewoulddo,ifweweremarried,andIweretosayIshouldlikeaniceIrishstew,sherepliedthatshewouldtelltheservanttomakeit;andthenclappedherlittlehandstogetheracrossmyarm,andlaughedinsuchacharmingmannerthatshewasmoredelightfulthanever.

           Consequently,theprincipalusetowhichthecookery-bookwasdevoted,wasbeingputdowninthecornerforJiptostandupon.ButDorawassopleased,whenshehadtrainedhimtostanduponitwithoutofferingtocomeoff,andatthesametimetoholdthepencil-caseinhismouth,thatIwasverygladIhadboughtit.

           Andwefellbackontheguitar-case,andtheflower-painting,andthesongsaboutneverleavingoffdancing,Tarala!andwereashappyastheweekwaslong

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