-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Холодный дом
-
- Стр. 55/128
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Meanwhile
Phil
has
fallen
to
work
at
his
usual
table
,
where
he
screws
and
unscrews
,
and
cleans
,
and
files
,
and
whistles
into
small
apertures
,
and
blackens
himself
more
and
more
,
and
seems
to
do
and
undo
everything
that
can
be
done
and
undone
about
a
gun
.
Master
and
man
are
at
length
disturbed
by
footsteps
in
the
passage
,
where
they
make
an
unusual
sound
,
denoting
the
arrival
of
unusual
company
.
These
steps
,
advancing
nearer
and
nearer
to
the
gallery
,
bring
into
it
a
group
at
first
sight
scarcely
reconcilable
with
any
day
in
the
year
but
the
fifth
of
November
.
It
consists
of
a
limp
and
ugly
figure
carried
in
a
chair
by
two
bearers
and
attended
by
a
lean
female
with
a
face
like
a
pinched
mask
,
who
might
be
expected
immediately
to
recite
the
popular
verses
commemorative
of
the
time
when
they
did
contrive
to
blow
Old
England
up
alive
but
for
her
keeping
her
lips
tightly
and
defiantly
closed
as
the
chair
is
put
down
.
At
which
point
the
figure
in
it
gasping
,
"
O
Lord
!
Oh
,
dear
me
!
I
am
shaken
!
"
adds
,
"
How
de
do
,
my
dear
friend
,
how
de
do
?
"
Mr
.
George
then
descries
,
in
the
procession
,
the
venerable
Mr
.
Smallweed
out
for
an
airing
,
attended
by
his
granddaughter
Judy
as
body
-
guard
.
"
Mr
.
George
,
my
dear
friend
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
removing
his
right
arm
from
the
neck
of
one
of
his
bearers
,
whom
he
has
nearly
throttled
coming
along
,
"
how
de
do
?
You
’
re
surprised
to
see
me
,
my
dear
friend
.
"
"
I
should
hardly
have
been
more
surprised
to
have
seen
your
friend
in
the
city
,
"
returns
Mr
.
George
.
"
I
am
very
seldom
out
,
"
pants
Mr
.
Smallweed
.
"
I
haven
’
t
been
out
for
many
months
.
It
’
s
inconvenient
—
and
it
comes
expensive
.
But
I
longed
so
much
to
see
you
,
my
dear
Mr
.
George
.
How
de
do
,
sir
?
"
"
I
am
well
enough
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
.
"
I
hope
you
are
the
same
.
"
"
You
can
’
t
be
too
well
,
my
dear
friend
.
"
Mr
.
Smallweed
takes
him
by
both
hands
.
"
I
have
brought
my
granddaughter
Judy
.
I
couldn
’
t
keep
her
away
.
She
longed
so
much
to
see
you
.
"
"
Hum
!
She
bears
it
calmly
!
"
mutters
Mr
.
George
.
"
So
we
got
a
hackney
-
cab
,
and
put
a
chair
in
it
,
and
just
round
the
corner
they
lifted
me
out
of
the
cab
and
into
the
chair
,
and
carried
me
here
that
I
might
see
my
dear
friend
in
his
own
establishment
!
This
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
alluding
to
the
bearer
,
who
has
been
in
danger
of
strangulation
and
who
withdraws
adjusting
his
windpipe
,
"
is
the
driver
of
the
cab
.
He
has
nothing
extra
.
It
is
by
agreement
included
in
his
fare
.
This
person
,
"
the
other
bearer
,
"
we
engaged
in
the
street
outside
for
a
pint
of
beer
.
Which
is
twopence
.
Judy
,
give
the
person
twopence
.
I
was
not
sure
you
had
a
workman
of
your
own
here
,
my
dear
friend
,
or
we
needn
’
t
have
employed
this
person
.
"
Grandfather
Smallweed
refers
to
Phil
with
a
glance
of
considerable
terror
and
a
half
-
subdued
"
O
Lord
!
Oh
,
dear
me
!
"
Nor
in
his
apprehension
,
on
the
surface
of
things
,
without
some
reason
,
for
Phil
,
who
has
never
beheld
the
apparition
in
the
black
-
velvet
cap
before
,
has
stopped
short
with
a
gun
in
his
hand
with
much
of
the
air
of
a
dead
shot
intent
on
picking
Mr
.
Smallweed
off
as
an
ugly
old
bird
of
the
crow
species
.
"
Judy
,
my
child
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
"
give
the
person
his
twopence
.
It
’
s
a
great
deal
for
what
he
has
done
.
"
The
person
,
who
is
one
of
those
extraordinary
specimens
of
human
fungus
that
spring
up
spontaneously
in
the
western
streets
of
London
,
ready
dressed
in
an
old
red
jacket
,
with
a
"
mission
"
for
holding
horses
and
calling
coaches
,
received
his
twopence
with
anything
but
transport
,
tosses
the
money
into
the
air
,
catches
it
over
-
handed
,
and
retires
.
"
My
dear
Mr
.
George
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
"
would
you
be
so
kind
as
help
to
carry
me
to
the
fire
?
I
am
accustomed
to
a
fire
,
and
I
am
an
old
man
,
and
I
soon
chill
.
Oh
,
dear
me
!
"
His
closing
exclamation
is
jerked
out
of
the
venerable
gentleman
by
the
suddenness
with
which
Mr
.
Squod
,
like
a
genie
,
catches
him
up
,
chair
and
all
,
and
deposits
him
on
the
hearth
-
stone
.
"
O
Lord
!
"
says
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
panting
.
"
Oh
,
dear
me
!
Oh
,
my
stars
!
My
dear
friend
,
your
workman
is
very
strong
—
and
very
prompt
.
O
Lord
,
he
is
very
prompt
!
Judy
,
draw
me
back
a
little
.
I
’
m
being
scorched
in
the
legs
,
"
which
indeed
is
testified
to
the
noses
of
all
present
by
the
smell
of
his
worsted
stockings
.
The
gentle
Judy
,
having
backed
her
grandfather
a
little
way
from
the
fire
,
and
having
shaken
him
up
as
usual
,
and
having
released
his
overshadowed
eye
from
its
black
-
velvet
extinguisher
,
Mr
.
Smallweed
again
says
,
"
Oh
,
dear
me
!
O
Lord
!
"
and
looking
about
and
meeting
Mr
.
George
’
s
glance
,
again
stretches
out
both
hands
.
"
My
dear
friend
!
So
happy
in
this
meeting
!
And
this
is
your
establishment
?
It
’
s
a
delightful
place
.
It
’
s
a
picture
!
You
never
find
that
anything
goes
off
here
accidentally
,
do
you
,
my
dear
friend
?
"
adds
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
very
ill
at
ease
.
"
No
,
no
.
No
fear
of
that
.
"
"
And
your
workman
.
He
—
Oh
,
dear
me
!
—
he
never
lets
anything
off
without
meaning
it
,
does
he
,
my
dear
friend
?
"
"
He
has
never
hurt
anybody
but
himself
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
smiling
.
"
But
he
might
,
you
know
.
He
seems
to
have
hurt
himself
a
good
deal
,
and
he
might
hurt
somebody
else
,
"
the
old
gentleman
returns
.
"
He
mightn
’
t
mean
it
—
or
he
even
might
.
Mr
.
George
,
will
you
order
him
to
leave
his
infernal
fire
-
arms
alone
and
go
away
?
"
Obedient
to
a
nod
from
the
trooper
,
Phil
retires
,
empty
-
handed
,
to
the
other
end
of
the
gallery
.
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
reassured
,
falls
to
rubbing
his
legs
.
"
And
you
’
re
doing
well
,
Mr
.
George
?
"
he
says
to
the
trooper
,
squarely
standing
faced
about
towards
him
with
his
broadsword
in
his
hand
.
"
You
are
prospering
,
please
the
Powers
?
"
Mr
.
George
answers
with
a
cool
nod
,
adding
,
"
Go
on
.
You
have
not
come
to
say
that
,
I
know
.
"
"
You
are
so
sprightly
,
Mr
.
George
,
"
returns
the
venerable
grandfather
.
"
You
are
such
good
company
.
"
"
Ha
ha
!
Go
on
!
"
says
Mr
.
George
.
"
My
dear
friend
!
But
that
sword
looks
awful
gleaming
and
sharp
.
It
might
cut
somebody
,
by
accident
.
It
makes
me
shiver
,
Mr
.
George
.
Curse
him
!
"
says
the
excellent
old
gentleman
apart
to
Judy
as
the
trooper
takes
a
step
or
two
away
to
lay
it
aside
.
"
He
owes
me
money
,
and
might
think
of
paying
off
old
scores
in
this
murdering
place
.
I
wish
your
brimstone
grandmother
was
here
,
and
he
’
d
shave
her
head
off
.
"
Mr
.
George
,
returning
,
folds
his
arms
,
and
looking
down
at
the
old
man
,
sliding
every
moment
lower
and
lower
in
his
chair
,
says
quietly
,
"
Now
for
it
!
"
"
Ho
!
"
cries
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
rubbing
his
hands
with
an
artful
chuckle
.
"
Yes
.
Now
for
it
.
Now
for
what
,
my
dear
friend
?
"
"
For
a
pipe
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
who
with
great
composure
sets
his
chair
in
the
chimney
-
corner
,
takes
his
pipe
from
the
grate
,
fills
it
and
lights
it
,
and
falls
to
smoking
peacefully
.
This
tends
to
the
discomfiture
of
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
who
finds
it
so
difficult
to
resume
his
object
,
whatever
it
may
be
,
that
he
becomes
exasperated
and
secretly
claws
the
air
with
an
impotent
vindictiveness
expressive
of
an
intense
desire
to
tear
and
rend
the
visage
of
Mr
.
George
.
As
the
excellent
old
gentleman
’
s
nails
are
long
and
leaden
,
and
his
hands
lean
and
veinous
,
and
his
eyes
green
and
watery
;
and
,
over
and
above
this
,
as
he
continues
,
while
he
claws
,
to
slide
down
in
his
chair
and
to
collapse
into
a
shapeless
bundle
,
he
becomes
such
a
ghastly
spectacle
,
even
in
the
accustomed
eyes
of
Judy
,
that
that
young
virgin
pounces
at
him
with
something
more
than
the
ardour
of
affection
and
so
shakes
him
up
and
pats
and
pokes
him
in
divers
parts
of
his
body
,
but
particularly
in
that
part
which
the
science
of
self
-
defence
would
call
his
wind
,
that
in
his
grievous
distress
he
utters
enforced
sounds
like
a
paviour
’
s
rammer
.
When
Judy
has
by
these
means
set
him
up
again
in
his
chair
,
with
a
white
face
and
a
frosty
nose
(
but
still
clawing
)
,
she
stretches
out
her
weazen
forefinger
and
gives
Mr
.
George
one
poke
in
the
back
.
The
trooper
raising
his
head
,
she
makes
another
poke
at
her
esteemed
grandfather
,
and
having
thus
brought
them
together
,
stares
rigidly
at
the
fire
.
"
Aye
,
aye
!
Ho
,
ho
!
U
—
u
—
u
—
ugh
!
"
chatters
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
swallowing
his
rage
.
"
My
dear
friend
!
"
(
still
clawing
)
.
"
I
tell
you
what
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
.
"
If
you
want
to
converse
with
me
,
you
must
speak
out
.
I
am
one
of
the
roughs
,
and
I
can
’
t
go
about
and
about
.
I
haven
’
t
the
art
to
do
it
.
I
am
not
clever
enough
.
It
don
’
t
suit
me
.
When
you
go
winding
round
and
round
me
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
putting
his
pipe
between
his
lips
again
,
"
damme
,
if
I
don
’
t
feel
as
if
I
was
being
smothered
!
"
And
he
inflates
his
broad
chest
to
its
utmost
extent
as
if
to
assure
himself
that
he
is
not
smothered
yet
.
"
If
you
have
come
to
give
me
a
friendly
call
,
"
continues
Mr
.
George
,
"
I
am
obliged
to
you
;
how
are
you
?
If
you
have
come
to
see
whether
there
’
s
any
property
on
the
premises
,
look
about
you
;
you
are
welcome
.
If
you
want
to
out
with
something
,
out
with
it
!
"
The
blooming
Judy
,
without
removing
her
gaze
from
the
fire
,
gives
her
grandfather
one
ghostly
poke
.
"
You
see
!
It
’
s
her
opinion
too
.
And
why
the
devil
that
young
woman
won
’
t
sit
down
like
a
Christian
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
with
his
eyes
musingly
fixed
on
Judy
,
"
I
can
’
t
comprehend
.
"
"
She
keeps
at
my
side
to
attend
to
me
,
sir
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
.
"
I
am
an
old
man
,
my
dear
Mr
.
George
,
and
I
need
some
attention
.
I
can
carry
my
years
;
I
am
not
a
brimstone
poll
-
parrot
"
(
snarling
and
looking
unconsciously
for
the
cushion
)
,
"
but
I
need
attention
,
my
dear
friend
.
"
"
Well
!
"
returns
the
trooper
,
wheeling
his
chair
to
face
the
old
man
.
"
Now
then
?
"
"
My
friend
in
the
city
,
Mr
.
George
,
has
done
a
little
business
with
a
pupil
of
yours
.
"
"
Has
he
?
"
says
Mr
.
George
.
"
I
am
sorry
to
hear
it
.
"
"
Yes
,
sir
.
"
Grandfather
Smallweed
rubs
his
legs
.
"
He
is
a
fine
young
soldier
now
,
Mr
.
George
,
by
the
name
of
Carstone
.
Friends
came
forward
and
paid
it
all
up
,
honourable
.
"
"
Did
they
?
"
returns
Mr
.
George
.
"
Do
you
think
your
friend
in
the
city
would
like
a
piece
of
advice
?
"
"
I
think
he
would
,
my
dear
friend
.
From
you
.
"
"
I
advise
him
,
then
,
to
do
no
more
business
in
that
quarter
.
There
’
s
no
more
to
be
got
by
it
.
The
young
gentleman
,
to
my
knowledge
,
is
brought
to
a
dead
halt
.
"
"
No
,
no
,
my
dear
friend
.
No
,
no
,
Mr
.
George
.
No
,
no
,
no
,
sir
,
"
remonstrates
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
cunningly
rubbing
his
spare
legs
.
"
Not
quite
a
dead
halt
,
I
think
.
He
has
good
friends
,
and
he
is
good
for
his
pay
,
and
he
is
good
for
the
selling
price
of
his
commission
,
and
he
is
good
for
his
chance
in
a
lawsuit
,
and
he
is
good
for
his
chance
in
a
wife
,
and
—
oh
,
do
you
know
,
Mr
.
George
,
I
think
my
friend
would
consider
the
young
gentleman
good
for
something
yet
?
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
turning
up
his
velvet
cap
and
scratching
his
ear
like
a
monkey
.
Mr
.
George
,
who
has
put
aside
his
pipe
and
sits
with
an
arm
on
his
chair
-
back
,
beats
a
tattoo
on
the
ground
with
his
right
foot
as
if
he
were
not
particularly
pleased
with
the
turn
the
conversation
has
taken
.
"
But
to
pass
from
one
subject
to
another
,
"
resumes
Mr
.
Smallweed
.
"
’
To
promote
the
conversation
,
’
as
a
joker
might
say
.
To
pass
,
Mr
.
George
,
from
the
ensign
to
the
captain
.
"
"
What
are
you
up
to
,
now
?
"
asks
Mr
.
George
,
pausing
with
a
frown
in
stroking
the
recollection
of
his
moustache
.
"
What
captain
?
"
"
Our
captain
.
The
captain
we
know
of
.
Captain
Hawdon
.
"
"
Oh
!
That
’
s
it
,
is
it
?
"
says
Mr
.
George
with
a
low
whistle
as
he
sees
both
grandfather
and
granddaughter
looking
hard
at
him
.
"
You
are
there
!
Well
?
What
about
it
?
Come
,
I
won
’
t
be
smothered
any
more
.
Speak
!
"
"
My
dear
friend
,
"
returns
the
old
man
,
"
I
was
applied
—
Judy
,
shake
me
up
a
little
!
—
I
was
applied
to
yesterday
about
the
captain
,
and
my
opinion
still
is
that
the
captain
is
not
dead
.
"
"
Bosh
!
"
observes
Mr
.
George
.
"
What
was
your
remark
,
my
dear
friend
?
"
inquires
the
old
man
with
his
hand
to
his
ear
.
"
Bosh
!
"
"
Ho
!
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
.
"
Mr
.
George
,
of
my
opinion
you
can
judge
for
yourself
according
to
the
questions
asked
of
me
and
the
reasons
given
for
asking
’
em
.
Now
,
what
do
you
think
the
lawyer
making
the
inquiries
wants
?
"
"
A
job
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
.
"
Nothing
of
the
kind
!
"
"
Can
’
t
be
a
lawyer
,
then
,
"
says
Mr
.
George
,
folding
his
arms
with
an
air
of
confirmed
resolution
.
"
My
dear
friend
,
he
is
a
lawyer
,
and
a
famous
one
.
He
wants
to
see
some
fragment
in
Captain
Hawdon
’
s
writing
.
He
don
’
t
want
to
keep
it
.
He
only
wants
to
see
it
and
compare
it
with
a
writing
in
his
possession
.
"
"
Well
?
"
"
Well
,
Mr
.
George
.
Happening
to
remember
the
advertisement
concerning
Captain
Hawdon
and
any
information
that
could
be
given
respecting
him
,
he
looked
it
up
and
came
to
me
—
just
as
you
did
,
my
dear
friend
.
WILL
you
shake
hands
?
So
glad
you
came
that
day
!
I
should
have
missed
forming
such
a
friendship
if
you
hadn
’
t
come
!
"
"
Well
,
Mr
.
Smallweed
?
"
says
Mr
.
George
again
after
going
through
the
ceremony
with
some
stiffness
.
"
I
had
no
such
thing
.
I
have
nothing
but
his
signature
.
Plague
pestilence
and
famine
,
battle
murder
and
sudden
death
upon
him
,
"
says
the
old
man
,
making
a
curse
out
of
one
of
his
few
remembrances
of
a
prayer
and
squeezing
up
his
velvet
cap
between
his
angry
hands
,
"
I
have
half
a
million
of
his
signatures
,
I
think
!
But
you
,
"
breathlessly
recovering
his
mildness
of
speech
as
Judy
re
-
adjusts
the
cap
on
his
skittle
-
ball
of
a
head
,
"
you
,
my
dear
Mr
.
George
,
are
likely
to
have
some
letter
or
paper
that
would
suit
the
purpose
.
Anything
would
suit
the
purpose
,
written
in
the
hand
.
"
"
Some
writing
in
that
hand
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
pondering
;
"
may
be
,
I
have
.
"
"
My
dearest
friend
!
"
"
May
be
,
I
have
not
.
"
"
Ho
!
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
crest
-
fallen
.
"
But
if
I
had
bushels
of
it
,
I
would
not
show
as
much
as
would
make
a
cartridge
without
knowing
why
.
"
"
Sir
,
I
have
told
you
why
.
My
dear
Mr
.
George
,
I
have
told
you
why
.
"
"
Not
enough
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
shaking
his
head
.
"
I
must
know
more
,
and
approve
it
.
"
"
Then
,
will
you
come
to
the
lawyer
?
My
dear
friend
,
will
you
come
and
see
the
gentleman
?
"
urges
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
pulling
out
a
lean
old
silver
watch
with
hands
like
the
leg
of
a
skeleton
.
"
I
told
him
it
was
probable
I
might
call
upon
him
between
ten
and
eleven
this
forenoon
,
and
it
’
s
now
half
after
ten
.
Will
you
come
and
see
the
gentleman
,
Mr
.
George
?
"
"
Hum
!
"
says
he
gravely
.
"
I
don
’
t
mind
that
.
Though
why
this
should
concern
you
so
much
,
I
don
’
t
know
.
"
"
Everything
concerns
me
that
has
a
chance
in
it
of
bringing
anything
to
light
about
him
.
Didn
’
t
he
take
us
all
in
?
Didn
’
t
he
owe
us
immense
sums
,
all
round
?
Concern
me
?
Who
can
anything
about
him
concern
more
than
me
?
Not
,
my
dear
friend
,
"
says
Grandfather
Smallweed
,
lowering
his
tone
,
"
that
I
want
YOU
to
betray
anything
.
Far
from
it
.
Are
you
ready
to
come
,
my
dear
friend
?
"
"
Aye
!
I
’
ll
come
in
a
moment
.
I
promise
nothing
,
you
know
.
"
"
No
,
my
dear
Mr
.
George
;
no
.
"
"
And
you
mean
to
say
you
’
re
going
to
give
me
a
lift
to
this
place
,
wherever
it
is
,
without
charging
for
it
?
"
Mr
.
George
inquires
,
getting
his
hat
and
thick
wash
-
leather
gloves
.
This
pleasantry
so
tickles
Mr
.
Smallweed
that
he
laughs
,
long
and
low
,
before
the
fire
.
But
ever
while
he
laughs
,
he
glances
over
his
paralytic
shoulder
at
Mr
.
George
and
eagerly
watches
him
as
he
unlocks
the
padlock
of
a
homely
cupboard
at
the
distant
end
of
the
gallery
,
looks
here
and
there
upon
the
higher
shelves
,
and
ultimately
takes
something
out
with
a
rustling
of
paper
,
folds
it
,
and
puts
it
in
his
breast
.
Then
Judy
pokes
Mr
.
Smallweed
once
,
and
Mr
.
Smallweed
pokes
Judy
once
.
"
I
am
ready
,
"
says
the
trooper
,
coming
back
.
"
Phil
,
you
can
carry
this
old
gentleman
to
his
coach
,
and
make
nothing
of
him
.
"
"
Oh
,
dear
me
!
O
Lord
!
Stop
a
moment
!
"
says
Mr
.
Smallweed
.
"
He
’
s
so
very
prompt
!
Are
you
sure
you
can
do
it
carefully
,
my
worthy
man
?
"
Phil
makes
no
reply
,
but
seizing
the
chair
and
its
load
,
sidles
away
,
tightly
hugged
by
the
now
speechless
Mr
.
Smallweed
,
and
bolts
along
the
passage
as
if
he
had
an
acceptable
commission
to
carry
the
old
gentleman
to
the
nearest
volcano
