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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 25/820
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We
were
sitting
as
before
,
one
evening
(
when
my
mother
was
out
as
before
)
,
in
company
with
the
stocking
and
the
yard
-
measure
,
and
the
bit
of
wax
,
and
the
box
with
St
.
Paul
’
s
on
the
lid
,
and
the
crocodile
book
,
when
Peggotty
,
after
looking
at
me
several
times
,
and
opening
her
mouth
as
if
she
were
going
to
speak
,
without
doing
it
—
which
I
thought
was
merely
gaping
,
or
I
should
have
been
rather
alarmed
—
said
coaxingly
:
‘
Master
Davy
,
how
should
you
like
to
go
along
with
me
and
spend
a
fortnight
at
my
brother
’
s
at
Yarmouth
?
Wouldn
’
t
that
be
a
treat
?
’
‘
Is
your
brother
an
agreeable
man
,
Peggotty
?
’
I
inquired
,
provisionally
.
‘
Oh
,
what
an
agreeable
man
he
is
!
’
cried
Peggotty
,
holding
up
her
hands
.
‘
Then
there
’
s
the
sea
;
and
the
boats
and
ships
;
and
the
fishermen
;
and
the
beach
;
and
Am
to
play
with
—
—
’
Peggotty
meant
her
nephew
Ham
,
mentioned
in
my
first
chapter
;
but
she
spoke
of
him
as
a
morsel
of
English
Grammar
.
I
was
flushed
by
her
summary
of
delights
,
and
replied
that
it
would
indeed
be
a
treat
,
but
what
would
my
mother
say
?
‘
Why
then
I
’
ll
as
good
as
bet
a
guinea
,
’
said
Peggotty
,
intent
upon
my
face
,
‘
that
she
’
ll
let
us
go
.
I
’
ll
ask
her
,
if
you
like
,
as
soon
as
ever
she
comes
home
.
There
now
!
’
‘
But
what
’
s
she
to
do
while
we
’
re
away
?
’
said
I
,
putting
my
small
elbows
on
the
table
to
argue
the
point
.
‘
She
can
’
t
live
by
herself
.
’
If
Peggotty
were
looking
for
a
hole
,
all
of
a
sudden
,
in
the
heel
of
that
stocking
,
it
must
have
been
a
very
little
one
indeed
,
and
not
worth
darning
.
