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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 119/820
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I
knew
all
now
.
‘
She
is
dead
.
’
There
was
no
need
to
tell
me
so
.
I
had
already
broken
out
into
a
desolate
cry
,
and
felt
an
orphan
in
the
wide
world
.
She
was
very
kind
to
me
.
She
kept
me
there
all
day
,
and
left
me
alone
sometimes
;
and
I
cried
,
and
wore
myself
to
sleep
,
and
awoke
and
cried
again
.
When
I
could
cry
no
more
,
I
began
to
think
;
and
then
the
oppression
on
my
breast
was
heaviest
,
and
my
grief
a
dull
pain
that
there
was
no
ease
for
.
And
yet
my
thoughts
were
idle
;
not
intent
on
the
calamity
that
weighed
upon
my
heart
,
but
idly
loitering
near
it
.
I
thought
of
our
house
shut
up
and
hushed
.
I
thought
of
the
little
baby
,
who
,
Mrs
.
Creakle
said
,
had
been
pining
away
for
some
time
,
and
who
,
they
believed
,
would
die
too
.
I
thought
of
my
father
’
s
grave
in
the
churchyard
,
by
our
house
,
and
of
my
mother
lying
there
beneath
the
tree
I
knew
so
well
.
I
stood
upon
a
chair
when
I
was
left
alone
,
and
looked
into
the
glass
to
see
how
red
my
eyes
were
,
and
how
sorrowful
my
face
.
I
considered
,
after
some
hours
were
gone
,
if
my
tears
were
really
hard
to
flow
now
,
as
they
seemed
to
be
,
what
,
in
connexion
with
my
loss
,
it
would
affect
me
most
to
think
of
when
I
drew
near
home
—
for
I
was
going
home
to
the
funeral
.
I
am
sensible
of
having
felt
that
a
dignity
attached
to
me
among
the
rest
of
the
boys
,
and
that
I
was
important
in
my
affliction
.
If
ever
child
were
stricken
with
sincere
grief
,
I
was
.
But
I
remember
that
this
importance
was
a
kind
of
satisfaction
to
me
,
when
I
walked
in
the
playground
that
afternoon
while
the
boys
were
in
school
.
When
I
saw
them
glancing
at
me
out
of
the
windows
,
as
they
went
up
to
their
classes
,
I
felt
distinguished
,
and
looked
more
melancholy
,
and
walked
slower
.
When
school
was
over
,
and
they
came
out
and
spoke
to
me
,
I
felt
it
rather
good
in
myself
not
to
be
proud
to
any
of
them
,
and
to
take
exactly
the
same
notice
of
them
all
,
as
before
.
I
was
to
go
home
next
night
;
not
by
the
mail
,
but
by
the
heavy
night
-
coach
,
which
was
called
the
Farmer
,
and
was
principally
used
by
country
-
people
travelling
short
intermediate
distances
upon
the
road
.
We
had
no
story
-
telling
that
evening
,
and
Traddles
insisted
on
lending
me
his
pillow
.
I
don
’
t
know
what
good
he
thought
it
would
do
me
,
for
I
had
one
of
my
own
:
but
it
was
all
he
had
to
lend
,
poor
fellow
,
except
a
sheet
of
letter
-
paper
full
of
skeletons
;
and
that
he
gave
me
at
parting
,
as
a
soother
of
my
sorrows
and
a
contribution
to
my
peace
of
mind
.
I
left
Salem
House
upon
the
morrow
afternoon
.
I
little
thought
then
that
I
left
it
,
never
to
return
.
We
travelled
very
slowly
all
night
,
and
did
not
get
into
Yarmouth
before
nine
or
ten
o
’
clock
in
the
morning
.
I
looked
out
for
Mr
.
Barkis
,
but
he
was
not
there
;
and
instead
of
him
a
fat
,
short
-
winded
,
merry
-
looking
,
little
old
man
in
black
,
with
rusty
little
bunches
of
ribbons
at
the
knees
of
his
breeches
,
black
stockings
,
and
a
broad
-
brimmed
hat
,
came
puffing
up
to
the
coach
window
,
and
said
:
