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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 131/820
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‘
Yes
,
Peggotty
?
’
‘
I
have
tried
,
my
dear
,
all
ways
I
could
think
of
—
all
the
ways
there
are
,
and
all
the
ways
there
ain
’
t
,
in
short
—
to
get
a
suitable
service
here
,
in
Blunderstone
;
but
there
’
s
no
such
a
thing
,
my
love
.
’
‘
And
what
do
you
mean
to
do
,
Peggotty
,
’
says
I
,
wistfully
.
‘
Do
you
mean
to
go
and
seek
your
fortune
?
’
‘
I
expect
I
shall
be
forced
to
go
to
Yarmouth
,
’
replied
Peggotty
,
‘
and
live
there
.
’
‘
You
might
have
gone
farther
off
,
’
I
said
,
brightening
a
little
,
‘
and
been
as
bad
as
lost
.
I
shall
see
you
sometimes
,
my
dear
old
Peggotty
,
there
.
You
won
’
t
be
quite
at
the
other
end
of
the
world
,
will
you
?
’
‘
Contrary
ways
,
please
God
!
’
cried
Peggotty
,
with
great
animation
.
‘
As
long
as
you
are
here
,
my
pet
,
I
shall
come
over
every
week
of
my
life
to
see
you
.
One
day
,
every
week
of
my
life
!
’
I
felt
a
great
weight
taken
off
my
mind
by
this
promise
:
but
even
this
was
not
all
,
for
Peggotty
went
on
to
say
:
‘
I
’
m
a
-
going
,
Davy
,
you
see
,
to
my
brother
’
s
,
first
,
for
another
fortnight
’
s
visit
—
just
till
I
have
had
time
to
look
about
me
,
and
get
to
be
something
like
myself
again
.
Now
,
I
have
been
thinking
that
perhaps
,
as
they
don
’
t
want
you
here
at
present
,
you
might
be
let
to
go
along
with
me
.
’
If
anything
,
short
of
being
in
a
different
relation
to
every
one
about
me
,
Peggotty
excepted
,
could
have
given
me
a
sense
of
pleasure
at
that
time
,
it
would
have
been
this
project
of
all
others
.
The
idea
of
being
again
surrounded
by
those
honest
faces
,
shining
welcome
on
me
;
of
renewing
the
peacefulness
of
the
sweet
Sunday
morning
,
when
the
bells
were
ringing
,
the
stones
dropping
in
the
water
,
and
the
shadowy
ships
breaking
through
the
mist
;
of
roaming
up
and
down
with
little
Em
’
ly
,
telling
her
my
troubles
,
and
finding
charms
against
them
in
the
shells
and
pebbles
on
the
beach
;
made
a
calm
in
my
heart
.
It
was
ruffled
next
moment
,
to
be
sure
,
by
a
doubt
of
Miss
Murdstone
’
s
giving
her
consent
;
but
even
that
was
set
at
rest
soon
,
for
she
came
out
to
take
an
evening
grope
in
the
store
-
closet
while
we
were
yet
in
conversation
,
and
Peggotty
,
with
a
boldness
that
amazed
me
,
broached
the
topic
on
the
spot
.
‘
The
boy
will
be
idle
there
,
’
said
Miss
Murdstone
,
looking
into
a
pickle
-
jar
,
‘
and
idleness
is
the
root
of
all
evil
.
But
,
to
be
sure
,
he
would
be
idle
here
—
or
anywhere
,
in
my
opinion
.
’
