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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 150/820
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I
went
in
,
and
found
there
a
stoutish
,
middle
-
aged
person
,
in
a
brown
surtout
and
black
tights
and
shoes
,
with
no
more
hair
upon
his
head
(
which
was
a
large
one
,
and
very
shining
)
than
there
is
upon
an
egg
,
and
with
a
very
extensive
face
,
which
he
turned
full
upon
me
.
His
clothes
were
shabby
,
but
he
had
an
imposing
shirt
-
collar
on
.
He
carried
a
jaunty
sort
of
a
stick
,
with
a
large
pair
of
rusty
tassels
to
it
;
and
a
quizzing
-
glass
hung
outside
his
coat
,
—
for
ornament
,
I
afterwards
found
,
as
he
very
seldom
looked
through
it
,
and
couldn
’
t
see
anything
when
he
did
.
‘
This
,
’
said
Mr
.
Quinion
,
in
allusion
to
myself
,
‘
is
he
.
’
‘
This
,
’
said
the
stranger
,
with
a
certain
condescending
roll
in
his
voice
,
and
a
certain
indescribable
air
of
doing
something
genteel
,
which
impressed
me
very
much
,
‘
is
Master
Copperfield
.
I
hope
I
see
you
well
,
sir
?
’
I
said
I
was
very
well
,
and
hoped
he
was
.
I
was
sufficiently
ill
at
ease
,
Heaven
knows
;
but
it
was
not
in
my
nature
to
complain
much
at
that
time
of
my
life
,
so
I
said
I
was
very
well
,
and
hoped
he
was
.
‘
I
am
,
’
said
the
stranger
,
‘
thank
Heaven
,
quite
well
.
I
have
received
a
letter
from
Mr
.
Murdstone
,
in
which
he
mentions
that
he
would
desire
me
to
receive
into
an
apartment
in
the
rear
of
my
house
,
which
is
at
present
unoccupied
—
and
is
,
in
short
,
to
be
let
as
a
—
in
short
,
’
said
the
stranger
,
with
a
smile
and
in
a
burst
of
confidence
,
‘
as
a
bedroom
—
the
young
beginner
whom
I
have
now
the
pleasure
to
—
—
’
and
the
stranger
waved
his
hand
,
and
settled
his
chin
in
his
shirt
-
collar
.
‘
This
is
Mr
.
Micawber
,
’
said
Mr
.
Quinion
to
me
.
‘
Ahem
!
’
said
the
stranger
,
‘
that
is
my
name
.
’
‘
Mr
.
Micawber
,
’
said
Mr
.
Quinion
,
‘
is
known
to
Mr
.
Murdstone
.
He
takes
orders
for
us
on
commission
,
when
he
can
get
any
.
He
has
been
written
to
by
Mr
.
Murdstone
,
on
the
subject
of
your
lodgings
,
and
he
will
receive
you
as
a
lodger
.
’
‘
My
address
,
’
said
Mr
.
Micawber
,
‘
is
Windsor
Terrace
,
City
Road
.
I
—
in
short
,
’
said
Mr
.
Micawber
,
with
the
same
genteel
air
,
and
in
another
burst
of
confidence
—
‘
I
live
there
.
’
