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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 116/820
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I
knew
well
—
better
perhaps
than
he
thought
,
as
far
as
my
poor
mother
was
concerned
—
and
I
obeyed
him
to
the
letter
.
I
retreated
to
my
own
room
no
more
;
I
took
refuge
with
Peggotty
no
more
;
but
sat
wearily
in
the
parlour
day
after
day
,
looking
forward
to
night
,
and
bedtime
.
What
irksome
constraint
I
underwent
,
sitting
in
the
same
attitude
hours
upon
hours
,
afraid
to
move
an
arm
or
a
leg
lest
Miss
Murdstone
should
complain
(
as
she
did
on
the
least
pretence
)
of
my
restlessness
,
and
afraid
to
move
an
eye
lest
she
should
light
on
some
look
of
dislike
or
scrutiny
that
would
find
new
cause
for
complaint
in
mine
!
What
intolerable
dulness
to
sit
listening
to
the
ticking
of
the
clock
;
and
watching
Miss
Murdstone
’
s
little
shiny
steel
beads
as
she
strung
them
;
and
wondering
whether
she
would
ever
be
married
,
and
if
so
,
to
what
sort
of
unhappy
man
;
and
counting
the
divisions
in
the
moulding
of
the
chimney
-
piece
;
and
wandering
away
,
with
my
eyes
,
to
the
ceiling
,
among
the
curls
and
corkscrews
in
the
paper
on
the
wall
!
What
walks
I
took
alone
,
down
muddy
lanes
,
in
the
bad
winter
weather
,
carrying
that
parlour
,
and
Mr
.
and
Miss
Murdstone
in
it
,
everywhere
:
a
monstrous
load
that
I
was
obliged
to
bear
,
a
daymare
that
there
was
no
possibility
of
breaking
in
,
a
weight
that
brooded
on
my
wits
,
and
blunted
them
!
What
meals
I
had
in
silence
and
embarrassment
,
always
feeling
that
there
were
a
knife
and
fork
too
many
,
and
that
mine
;
an
appetite
too
many
,
and
that
mine
;
a
plate
and
chair
too
many
,
and
those
mine
;
a
somebody
too
many
,
and
that
I
!
What
evenings
,
when
the
candles
came
,
and
I
was
expected
to
employ
myself
,
but
,
not
daring
to
read
an
entertaining
book
,
pored
over
some
hard
-
headed
,
harder
-
hearted
treatise
on
arithmetic
;
when
the
tables
of
weights
and
measures
set
themselves
to
tunes
,
as
‘
Rule
Britannia
’
,
or
‘
Away
with
Melancholy
’
;
when
they
wouldn
’
t
stand
still
to
be
learnt
,
but
would
go
threading
my
grandmother
’
s
needle
through
my
unfortunate
head
,
in
at
one
ear
and
out
at
the
other
!
What
yawns
and
dozes
I
lapsed
into
,
in
spite
of
all
my
care
;
what
starts
I
came
out
of
concealed
sleeps
with
;
what
answers
I
never
got
,
to
little
observations
that
I
rarely
made
;
what
a
blank
space
I
seemed
,
which
everybody
overlooked
,
and
yet
was
in
everybody
’
s
way
;
what
a
heavy
relief
it
was
to
hear
Miss
Murdstone
hail
the
first
stroke
of
nine
at
night
,
and
order
me
to
bed
!
Thus
the
holidays
lagged
away
,
until
the
morning
came
when
Miss
Murdstone
said
:
‘
Here
’
s
the
last
day
off
!
’
and
gave
me
the
closing
cup
of
tea
of
the
vacation
.
I
was
not
sorry
to
go
I
had
lapsed
into
a
stupid
state
;
but
I
was
recovering
a
little
and
looking
forward
to
Steerforth
,
albeit
Mr
.
Creakle
loomed
behind
him
.
Again
Mr
.
Barkis
appeared
at
the
gate
,
and
again
Miss
Murdstone
in
her
warning
voice
,
said
:
‘
Clara
!
’
when
my
mother
bent
over
me
,
to
bid
me
farewell
.
I
kissed
her
,
and
my
baby
brother
,
and
was
very
sorry
then
;
but
not
sorry
to
go
away
,
for
the
gulf
between
us
was
there
,
and
the
parting
was
there
,
every
day
.
And
it
is
not
so
much
the
embrace
she
gave
me
,
that
lives
in
my
mind
,
though
it
was
as
fervent
as
could
be
,
as
what
followed
the
embrace
.
