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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 208/820
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But
oh
,
what
a
clammy
hand
his
was
!
as
ghostly
to
the
touch
as
to
the
sight
!
I
rubbed
mine
afterwards
,
to
warm
it
,
And
TO
RUB
HIS
OFF
.
It
was
such
an
uncomfortable
hand
,
that
,
when
I
went
to
my
room
,
it
was
still
cold
and
wet
upon
my
memory
.
Leaning
out
of
the
window
,
and
seeing
one
of
the
faces
on
the
beam
-
ends
looking
at
me
sideways
,
I
fancied
it
was
Uriah
Heep
got
up
there
somehow
,
and
shut
him
out
in
a
hurry
.
Next
morning
,
after
breakfast
,
I
entered
on
school
life
again
.
I
went
,
accompanied
by
Mr
.
Wickfield
,
to
the
scene
of
my
future
studies
—
a
grave
building
in
a
courtyard
,
with
a
learned
air
about
it
that
seemed
very
well
suited
to
the
stray
rooks
and
jackdaws
who
came
down
from
the
Cathedral
towers
to
walk
with
a
clerkly
bearing
on
the
grass
-
plot
—
and
was
introduced
to
my
new
master
,
Doctor
Strong
.
Doctor
Strong
looked
almost
as
rusty
,
to
my
thinking
,
as
the
tall
iron
rails
and
gates
outside
the
house
;
and
almost
as
stiff
and
heavy
as
the
great
stone
urns
that
flanked
them
,
and
were
set
up
,
on
the
top
of
the
red
-
brick
wall
,
at
regular
distances
all
round
the
court
,
like
sublimated
skittles
,
for
Time
to
play
at
.
He
was
in
his
library
(
I
mean
Doctor
Strong
was
)
,
with
his
clothes
not
particularly
well
brushed
,
and
his
hair
not
particularly
well
combed
;
his
knee
-
smalls
unbraced
;
his
long
black
gaiters
unbuttoned
;
and
his
shoes
yawning
like
two
caverns
on
the
hearth
-
rug
.
Turning
upon
me
a
lustreless
eye
,
that
reminded
me
of
a
long
-
forgotten
blind
old
horse
who
once
used
to
crop
the
grass
,
and
tumble
over
the
graves
,
in
Blunderstone
churchyard
,
he
said
he
was
glad
to
see
me
:
and
then
he
gave
me
his
hand
;
which
I
didn
’
t
know
what
to
do
with
,
as
it
did
nothing
for
itself
.
But
,
sitting
at
work
,
not
far
from
Doctor
Strong
,
was
a
very
pretty
young
lady
—
whom
he
called
Annie
,
and
who
was
his
daughter
,
I
supposed
—
who
got
me
out
of
my
difficulty
by
kneeling
down
to
put
Doctor
Strong
’
s
shoes
on
,
and
button
his
gaiters
,
which
she
did
with
great
cheerfulness
and
quickness
.
When
she
had
finished
,
and
we
were
going
out
to
the
schoolroom
,
I
was
much
surprised
to
hear
Mr
.
Wickfield
,
in
bidding
her
good
morning
,
address
her
as
‘
Mrs
.
Strong
’
;
and
I
was
wondering
could
she
be
Doctor
Strong
’
s
son
’
s
wife
,
or
could
she
be
Mrs
.
Doctor
Strong
,
when
Doctor
Strong
himself
unconsciously
enlightened
me
.
‘
By
the
by
,
Wickfield
,
’
he
said
,
stopping
in
a
passage
with
his
hand
on
my
shoulder
;
‘
you
have
not
found
any
suitable
provision
for
my
wife
’
s
cousin
yet
?
’
‘
No
,
’
said
Mr
.
Wickfield
.
‘
No
.
Not
yet
.
’
‘
I
could
wish
it
done
as
soon
as
it
can
be
done
,
Wickfield
,
’
said
Doctor
Strong
,
‘
for
Jack
Maldon
is
needy
,
and
idle
;
and
of
those
two
bad
things
,
worse
things
sometimes
come
.
What
does
Doctor
Watts
say
,
’
he
added
,
looking
at
me
,
and
moving
his
head
to
the
time
of
his
quotation
,
‘
“
Satan
finds
some
mischief
still
,
for
idle
hands
to
do
.
”
’
‘
Egad
,
Doctor
,
’
returned
Mr
.
Wickfield
,
‘
if
Doctor
Watts
knew
mankind
,
he
might
have
written
,
with
as
much
truth
,
“
Satan
finds
some
mischief
still
,
for
busy
hands
to
do
.
”
The
busy
people
achieve
their
full
share
of
mischief
in
the
world
,
you
may
rely
upon
it
.
What
have
the
people
been
about
,
who
have
been
the
busiest
in
getting
money
,
and
in
getting
power
,
this
century
or
two
?
No
mischief
?
’
