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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 117/820
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I
was
in
the
carrier
’
s
cart
when
I
heard
her
calling
to
me
.
I
looked
out
,
and
she
stood
at
the
garden
-
gate
alone
,
holding
her
baby
up
in
her
arms
for
me
to
see
.
It
was
cold
still
weather
;
and
not
a
hair
of
her
head
,
nor
a
fold
of
her
dress
,
was
stirred
,
as
she
looked
intently
at
me
,
holding
up
her
child
.
So
I
lost
her
.
So
I
saw
her
afterwards
,
in
my
sleep
at
school
—
a
silent
presence
near
my
bed
—
looking
at
me
with
the
same
intent
face
—
holding
up
her
baby
in
her
arms
.
IPASS
over
all
that
happened
at
school
,
until
the
anniversary
of
my
birthday
came
round
in
March
.
Except
that
Steerforth
was
more
to
be
admired
than
ever
,
I
remember
nothing
.
He
was
going
away
at
the
end
of
the
half
-
year
,
if
not
sooner
,
and
was
more
spirited
and
independent
than
before
in
my
eyes
,
and
therefore
more
engaging
than
before
;
but
beyond
this
I
remember
nothing
.
The
great
remembrance
by
which
that
time
is
marked
in
my
mind
,
seems
to
have
swallowed
up
all
lesser
recollections
,
and
to
exist
alone
.
It
is
even
difficult
for
me
to
believe
that
there
was
a
gap
of
full
two
months
between
my
return
to
Salem
House
and
the
arrival
of
that
birthday
.
I
can
only
understand
that
the
fact
was
so
,
because
I
know
it
must
have
been
so
;
otherwise
I
should
feel
convinced
that
there
was
no
interval
,
and
that
the
one
occasion
trod
upon
the
other
’
s
heels
.
How
well
I
recollect
the
kind
of
day
it
was
!
I
smell
the
fog
that
hung
about
the
place
;
I
see
the
hoar
frost
,
ghostly
,
through
it
;
I
feel
my
rimy
hair
fall
clammy
on
my
cheek
;
I
look
along
the
dim
perspective
of
the
schoolroom
,
with
a
sputtering
candle
here
and
there
to
light
up
the
foggy
morning
,
and
the
breath
of
the
boys
wreathing
and
smoking
in
the
raw
cold
as
they
blow
upon
their
fingers
,
and
tap
their
feet
upon
the
floor
.
It
was
after
breakfast
,
and
we
had
been
summoned
in
from
the
playground
,
when
Mr
.
Sharp
entered
and
said
:
‘
David
Copperfield
is
to
go
into
the
parlour
.
’
I
expected
a
hamper
from
Peggotty
,
and
brightened
at
the
order
.
Some
of
the
boys
about
me
put
in
their
claim
not
to
be
forgotten
in
the
distribution
of
the
good
things
,
as
I
got
out
of
my
seat
with
great
alacrity
.
‘
Don
’
t
hurry
,
David
,
’
said
Mr
.
Sharp
.
‘
There
’
s
time
enough
,
my
boy
,
don
’
t
hurry
.
’
I
might
have
been
surprised
by
the
feeling
tone
in
which
he
spoke
,
if
I
had
given
it
a
thought
;
but
I
gave
it
none
until
afterwards
.
I
hurried
away
to
the
parlour
;
and
there
I
found
Mr
.
Creakle
,
sitting
at
his
breakfast
with
the
cane
and
a
newspaper
before
him
,
and
Mrs
.
Creakle
with
an
opened
letter
in
her
hand
.
But
no
hamper
.
