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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 120/820
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‘
Master
Copperfield
?
’
‘
Yes
,
sir
.
’
‘
Will
you
come
with
me
,
young
sir
,
if
you
please
,
’
he
said
,
opening
the
door
,
‘
and
I
shall
have
the
pleasure
of
taking
you
home
.
’
I
put
my
hand
in
his
,
wondering
who
he
was
,
and
we
walked
away
to
a
shop
in
a
narrow
street
,
on
which
was
written
OMER
,
DRAPER
,
TAILOR
,
HABERDASHER
,
FUNERAL
FURNISHER
,
&
c
.
It
was
a
close
and
stifling
little
shop
;
full
of
all
sorts
of
clothing
,
made
and
unmade
,
including
one
window
full
of
beaver
-
hats
and
bonnets
.
We
went
into
a
little
back
-
parlour
behind
the
shop
,
where
we
found
three
young
women
at
work
on
a
quantity
of
black
materials
,
which
were
heaped
upon
the
table
,
and
little
bits
and
cuttings
of
which
were
littered
all
over
the
floor
.
There
was
a
good
fire
in
the
room
,
and
a
breathless
smell
of
warm
black
crape
—
I
did
not
know
what
the
smell
was
then
,
but
I
know
now
.
The
three
young
women
,
who
appeared
to
be
very
industrious
and
comfortable
,
raised
their
heads
to
look
at
me
,
and
then
went
on
with
their
work
.
Stitch
,
stitch
,
stitch
.
At
the
same
time
there
came
from
a
workshop
across
a
little
yard
outside
the
window
,
a
regular
sound
of
hammering
that
kept
a
kind
of
tune
:
RAT
—
tat
-
tat
,
RAT
—
tat
-
tat
,
RAT
—
tat
-
tat
,
without
any
variation
.
‘
Well
,
’
said
my
conductor
to
one
of
the
three
young
women
.
‘
How
do
you
get
on
,
Minnie
?
’
‘
We
shall
be
ready
by
the
trying
-
on
time
,
’
she
replied
gaily
,
without
looking
up
.
‘
Don
’
t
you
be
afraid
,
father
.
’
Mr
.
Omer
took
off
his
broad
-
brimmed
hat
,
and
sat
down
and
panted
.
He
was
so
fat
that
he
was
obliged
to
pant
some
time
before
he
could
say
:
‘
That
’
s
right
.
’
