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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 36/820
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We
used
to
walk
about
that
dim
old
flat
at
Yarmouth
in
a
loving
manner
,
hours
and
hours
.
The
days
sported
by
us
,
as
if
Time
had
not
grown
up
himself
yet
,
but
were
a
child
too
,
and
always
at
play
.
I
told
Em
’
ly
I
adored
her
,
and
that
unless
she
confessed
she
adored
me
I
should
be
reduced
to
the
necessity
of
killing
myself
with
a
sword
.
She
said
she
did
,
and
I
have
no
doubt
she
did
.
As
to
any
sense
of
inequality
,
or
youthfulness
,
or
other
difficulty
in
our
way
,
little
Em
’
ly
and
I
had
no
such
trouble
,
because
we
had
no
future
.
We
made
no
more
provision
for
growing
older
,
than
we
did
for
growing
younger
.
We
were
the
admiration
of
Mrs
.
Gummidge
and
Peggotty
,
who
used
to
whisper
of
an
evening
when
we
sat
,
lovingly
,
on
our
little
locker
side
by
side
,
‘
Lor
!
wasn
’
t
it
beautiful
!
’
Mr
.
Peggotty
smiled
at
us
from
behind
his
pipe
,
and
Ham
grinned
all
the
evening
and
did
nothing
else
.
They
had
something
of
the
sort
of
pleasure
in
us
,
I
suppose
,
that
they
might
have
had
in
a
pretty
toy
,
or
a
pocket
model
of
the
Colosseum
.
I
soon
found
out
that
Mrs
.
Gummidge
did
not
always
make
herself
so
agreeable
as
she
might
have
been
expected
to
do
,
under
the
circumstances
of
her
residence
with
Mr
.
Peggotty
.
Mrs
.
Gummidge
’
s
was
rather
a
fretful
disposition
,
and
she
whimpered
more
sometimes
than
was
comfortable
for
other
parties
in
so
small
an
establishment
.
I
was
very
sorry
for
her
;
but
there
were
moments
when
it
would
have
been
more
agreeable
,
I
thought
,
if
Mrs
.
Gummidge
had
had
a
convenient
apartment
of
her
own
to
retire
to
,
and
had
stopped
there
until
her
spirits
revived
.
Mr
.
Peggotty
went
occasionally
to
a
public
-
house
called
The
Willing
Mind
.
I
discovered
this
,
by
his
being
out
on
the
second
or
third
evening
of
our
visit
,
and
by
Mrs
.
Gummidge
’
s
looking
up
at
the
Dutch
clock
,
between
eight
and
nine
,
and
saying
he
was
there
,
and
that
,
what
was
more
,
she
had
known
in
the
morning
he
would
go
there
.
Mrs
.
Gummidge
had
been
in
a
low
state
all
day
,
and
had
burst
into
tears
in
the
forenoon
,
when
the
fire
smoked
.
‘
I
am
a
lone
lorn
creetur
’
,
’
were
Mrs
.
Gummidge
’
s
words
,
when
that
unpleasant
occurrence
took
place
,
‘
and
everythink
goes
contrary
with
me
.
’
‘
Oh
,
it
’
ll
soon
leave
off
,
’
said
Peggotty
—
I
again
mean
our
Peggotty
—
‘
and
besides
,
you
know
,
it
’
s
not
more
disagreeable
to
you
than
to
us
.
’
‘
I
feel
it
more
,
’
said
Mrs
.
Gummidge
.
It
was
a
very
cold
day
,
with
cutting
blasts
of
wind
.
Mrs
.
Gummidge
’
s
peculiar
corner
of
the
fireside
seemed
to
me
to
be
the
warmest
and
snuggest
in
the
place
,
as
her
chair
was
certainly
the
easiest
,
but
it
didn
’
t
suit
her
that
day
at
all
.
She
was
constantly
complaining
of
the
cold
,
and
of
its
occasioning
a
visitation
in
her
back
which
she
called
‘
the
creeps
’
.
At
last
she
shed
tears
on
that
subject
,
and
said
again
that
she
was
‘
a
lone
lorn
creetur
’
and
everythink
went
contrary
with
her
’
.
