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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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‘
Traddles
,
’
returned
Mr
.
Waterbrook
,
‘
is
a
young
man
reading
for
the
bar
.
Yes
.
He
is
quite
a
good
fellow
—
nobody
’
s
enemy
but
his
own
.
’
‘
Is
he
his
own
enemy
?
’
said
I
,
sorry
to
hear
this
.
‘
Well
,
’
returned
Mr
.
Waterbrook
,
pursing
up
his
mouth
,
and
playing
with
his
watch
-
chain
,
in
a
comfortable
,
prosperous
sort
of
way
.
‘
I
should
say
he
was
one
of
those
men
who
stand
in
their
own
light
.
Yes
,
I
should
say
he
would
never
,
for
example
,
be
worth
five
hundred
pound
.
Traddles
was
recommended
to
me
by
a
professional
friend
.
Oh
yes
.
Yes
.
He
has
a
kind
of
talent
for
drawing
briefs
,
and
stating
a
case
in
writing
,
plainly
.
I
am
able
to
throw
something
in
Traddles
’
s
way
,
in
the
course
of
the
year
;
something
-
for
him
—
considerable
.
Oh
yes
.
Yes
.
’
I
was
much
impressed
by
the
extremely
comfortable
and
satisfied
manner
in
which
Mr
.
Waterbrook
delivered
himself
of
this
little
word
‘
Yes
’
,
every
now
and
then
.
There
was
wonderful
expression
in
it
.
It
completely
conveyed
the
idea
of
a
man
who
had
been
born
,
not
to
say
with
a
silver
spoon
,
but
with
a
scaling
-
ladder
,
and
had
gone
on
mounting
all
the
heights
of
life
one
after
another
,
until
now
he
looked
,
from
the
top
of
the
fortifications
,
with
the
eye
of
a
philosopher
and
a
patron
,
on
the
people
down
in
the
trenches
.
My
reflections
on
this
theme
were
still
in
progress
when
dinner
was
announced
.
Mr
.
Waterbrook
went
down
with
Hamlet
’
s
aunt
.
Mr
.
Henry
Spiker
took
Mrs
.
Waterbrook
.
Agnes
,
whom
I
should
have
liked
to
take
myself
,
was
given
to
a
simpering
fellow
with
weak
legs
.
Uriah
,
Traddles
,
and
I
,
as
the
junior
part
of
the
company
,
went
down
last
,
how
we
could
.
I
was
not
so
vexed
at
losing
Agnes
as
I
might
have
been
,
since
it
gave
me
an
opportunity
of
making
myself
known
to
Traddles
on
the
stairs
,
who
greeted
me
with
great
fervour
;
while
Uriah
writhed
with
such
obtrusive
satisfaction
and
self
-
abasement
,
that
I
could
gladly
have
pitched
him
over
the
banisters
.
Traddles
and
I
were
separated
at
table
,
being
billeted
in
two
remote
corners
:
he
in
the
glare
of
a
red
velvet
lady
;
I
,
in
the
gloom
of
Hamlet
’
s
aunt
.
The
dinner
was
very
long
,
and
the
conversation
was
about
the
Aristocracy
—
and
Blood
.
Mrs
.
Waterbrook
repeatedly
told
us
,
that
if
she
had
a
weakness
,
it
was
Blood
.
It
occurred
to
me
several
times
that
we
should
have
got
on
better
,
if
we
had
not
been
quite
so
genteel
.
We
were
so
exceedingly
genteel
,
that
our
scope
was
very
limited
.
A
Mr
.
and
Mrs
.
Gulpidge
were
of
the
party
,
who
had
something
to
do
at
second
-
hand
(
at
least
,
Mr
.
Gulpidge
had
)
with
the
law
business
of
the
Bank
;
and
what
with
the
Bank
,
and
what
with
the
Treasury
,
we
were
as
exclusive
as
the
Court
Circular
.
To
mend
the
matter
,
Hamlet
’
s
aunt
had
the
family
failing
of
indulging
in
soliloquy
,
and
held
forth
in
a
desultory
manner
,
by
herself
,
on
every
topic
that
was
introduced
.
These
were
few
enough
,
to
be
sure
;
but
as
we
always
fell
back
upon
Blood
,
she
had
as
wide
a
field
for
abstract
speculation
as
her
nephew
himself
.
We
might
have
been
a
party
of
Ogres
,
the
conversation
assumed
such
a
sanguine
complexion
.
‘
I
confess
I
am
of
Mrs
.
Waterbrook
’
s
opinion
,
’
said
Mr
.
Waterbrook
,
with
his
wine
-
glass
at
his
eye
.
‘
Other
things
are
all
very
well
in
their
way
,
but
give
me
Blood
!
’
‘
Oh
!
There
is
nothing
,
’
observed
Hamlet
’
s
aunt
,
‘
so
satisfactory
to
one
!
There
is
nothing
that
is
so
much
one
’
s
beau
-
ideal
of
—
of
all
that
sort
of
thing
,
speaking
generally
.
There
are
some
low
minds
(
not
many
,
I
am
happy
to
believe
,
but
there
are
some
)
that
would
prefer
to
do
what
I
should
call
bow
down
before
idols
.
Positively
Idols
!
Before
service
,
intellect
,
and
so
on
.
But
these
are
intangible
points
.
Blood
is
not
so
.
We
see
Blood
in
a
nose
,
and
we
know
it
.
We
meet
with
it
in
a
chin
,
and
we
say
,
“
There
it
is
!
That
’
s
Blood
!
”
It
is
an
actual
matter
of
fact
.
We
point
it
out
.
It
admits
of
no
doubt
.
’
