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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 112/820
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On
another
occasion
,
when
we
three
were
together
,
this
same
dear
baby
—
it
was
truly
dear
to
me
,
for
our
mother
’
s
sake
—
was
the
innocent
occasion
of
Miss
Murdstone
’
s
going
into
a
passion
.
My
mother
,
who
had
been
looking
at
its
eyes
as
it
lay
upon
her
lap
,
said
:
‘
Davy
!
come
here
!
’
and
looked
at
mine
.
I
saw
Miss
Murdstone
lay
her
beads
down
.
‘
I
declare
,
’
said
my
mother
,
gently
,
‘
they
are
exactly
alike
.
I
suppose
they
are
mine
.
I
think
they
are
the
colour
of
mine
.
But
they
are
wonderfully
alike
.
’
‘
What
are
you
talking
about
,
Clara
?
’
said
Miss
Murdstone
.
‘
My
dear
Jane
,
’
faltered
my
mother
,
a
little
abashed
by
the
harsh
tone
of
this
inquiry
,
‘
I
find
that
the
baby
’
s
eyes
and
Davy
’
s
are
exactly
alike
.
’
‘
Clara
!
’
said
Miss
Murdstone
,
rising
angrily
,
‘
you
are
a
positive
fool
sometimes
.
’
‘
My
dear
Jane
,
’
remonstrated
my
mother
.
‘
A
positive
fool
,
’
said
Miss
Murdstone
.
‘
Who
else
could
compare
my
brother
’
s
baby
with
your
boy
?
They
are
not
at
all
alike
.
They
are
exactly
unlike
.
They
are
utterly
dissimilar
in
all
respects
.
I
hope
they
will
ever
remain
so
.
I
will
not
sit
here
,
and
hear
such
comparisons
made
.
’
With
that
she
stalked
out
,
and
made
the
door
bang
after
her
.
In
short
,
I
was
not
a
favourite
with
Miss
Murdstone
.
