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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 3/820
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‘
Yes
,
’
said
my
mother
,
faintly
.
‘
Miss
Trotwood
,
’
said
the
visitor
.
‘
You
have
heard
of
her
,
I
dare
say
?
’
My
mother
answered
she
had
had
that
pleasure
.
And
she
had
a
disagreeable
consciousness
of
not
appearing
to
imply
that
it
had
been
an
overpowering
pleasure
.
‘
Now
you
see
her
,
’
said
Miss
Betsey
.
My
mother
bent
her
head
,
and
begged
her
to
walk
in
.
They
went
into
the
parlour
my
mother
had
come
from
,
the
fire
in
the
best
room
on
the
other
side
of
the
passage
not
being
lighted
—
not
having
been
lighted
,
indeed
,
since
my
father
’
s
funeral
;
and
when
they
were
both
seated
,
and
Miss
Betsey
said
nothing
,
my
mother
,
after
vainly
trying
to
restrain
herself
,
began
to
cry
.
‘
Oh
tut
,
tut
,
tut
!
’
said
Miss
Betsey
,
in
a
hurry
.
‘
Don
’
t
do
that
!
Come
,
come
!
’
My
mother
couldn
’
t
help
it
notwithstanding
,
so
she
cried
until
she
had
had
her
cry
out
.
‘
Take
off
your
cap
,
child
,
’
said
Miss
Betsey
,
‘
and
let
me
see
you
.
’
My
mother
was
too
much
afraid
of
her
to
refuse
compliance
with
this
odd
request
,
if
she
had
any
disposition
to
do
so
.
Therefore
she
did
as
she
was
told
,
and
did
it
with
such
nervous
hands
that
her
hair
(
which
was
luxuriant
and
beautiful
)
fell
all
about
her
face
.
‘
Why
,
bless
my
heart
!
’
exclaimed
Miss
Betsey
.
‘
You
are
a
very
Baby
!
’
My
mother
was
,
no
doubt
,
unusually
youthful
in
appearance
even
for
her
years
;
she
hung
her
head
,
as
if
it
were
her
fault
,
poor
thing
,
and
said
,
sobbing
,
that
indeed
she
was
afraid
she
was
but
a
childish
widow
,
and
would
be
but
a
childish
mother
if
she
lived
.
In
a
short
pause
which
ensued
,
she
had
a
fancy
that
she
felt
Miss
Betsey
touch
her
hair
,
and
that
with
no
ungentle
hand
;
but
,
looking
at
her
,
in
her
timid
hope
,
she
found
that
lady
sitting
with
the
skirt
of
her
dress
tucked
up
,
her
hands
folded
on
one
knee
,
and
her
feet
upon
the
fender
,
frowning
at
the
fire
.
