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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 177/820
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The
gentleman
was
serious
immediately
,
and
looked
at
me
,
I
thought
,
as
if
he
would
entreat
me
to
say
nothing
about
the
window
.
‘
Mr
.
Dick
,
’
said
my
aunt
,
‘
you
have
heard
me
mention
David
Copperfield
?
Now
don
’
t
pretend
not
to
have
a
memory
,
because
you
and
I
know
better
.
’
‘
David
Copperfield
?
’
said
Mr
.
Dick
,
who
did
not
appear
to
me
to
remember
much
about
it
.
‘
David
Copperfield
?
Oh
yes
,
to
be
sure
.
David
,
certainly
.
’
‘
Well
,
’
said
my
aunt
,
‘
this
is
his
boy
—
his
son
.
He
would
be
as
like
his
father
as
it
’
s
possible
to
be
,
if
he
was
not
so
like
his
mother
,
too
.
’
‘
His
son
?
’
said
Mr
.
Dick
.
‘
David
’
s
son
?
Indeed
!
’
‘
Yes
,
’
pursued
my
aunt
,
‘
and
he
has
done
a
pretty
piece
of
business
.
He
has
run
away
.
Ah
!
His
sister
,
Betsey
Trotwood
,
never
would
have
run
away
.
’
My
aunt
shook
her
head
firmly
,
confident
in
the
character
and
behaviour
of
the
girl
who
never
was
born
.
‘
Oh
!
you
think
she
wouldn
’
t
have
run
away
?
’
said
Mr
.
Dick
.
‘
Bless
and
save
the
man
,
’
exclaimed
my
aunt
,
sharply
,
‘
how
he
talks
!
Don
’
t
I
know
she
wouldn
’
t
?
She
would
have
lived
with
her
god
-
mother
,
and
we
should
have
been
devoted
to
one
another
.
Where
,
in
the
name
of
wonder
,
should
his
sister
,
Betsey
Trotwood
,
have
run
from
,
or
to
?
’
‘
Nowhere
,
’
said
Mr
.
Dick
.
