-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 388/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
I
thought
you
came
from
Oxford
?
’
I
returned
.
‘
Not
I
,
’
said
Steerforth
.
‘
I
have
been
seafaring
—
better
employed
.
’
‘
Littimer
was
here
today
,
to
inquire
for
you
,
’
I
remarked
,
‘
and
I
understood
him
that
you
were
at
Oxford
;
though
,
now
I
think
of
it
,
he
certainly
did
not
say
so
.
’
‘
Littimer
is
a
greater
fool
than
I
thought
him
,
to
have
been
inquiring
for
me
at
all
,
’
said
Steerforth
,
jovially
pouring
out
a
glass
of
wine
,
and
drinking
to
me
.
‘
As
to
understanding
him
,
you
are
a
cleverer
fellow
than
most
of
us
,
Daisy
,
if
you
can
do
that
.
’
‘
That
’
s
true
,
indeed
,
’
said
I
,
moving
my
chair
to
the
table
.
‘
So
you
have
been
at
Yarmouth
,
Steerforth
!
’
interested
to
know
all
about
it
.
‘
Have
you
been
there
long
?
’
‘
No
,
’
he
returned
.
‘
An
escapade
of
a
week
or
so
.
’
‘
And
how
are
they
all
?
Of
course
,
little
Emily
is
not
married
yet
?
’
‘
Not
yet
.
Going
to
be
,
I
believe
—
in
so
many
weeks
,
or
months
,
or
something
or
other
.
I
have
not
seen
much
of
‘
em
.
By
the
by
’
;
he
laid
down
his
knife
and
fork
,
which
he
had
been
using
with
great
diligence
,
and
began
feeling
in
his
pockets
;
‘
I
have
a
letter
for
you
.
’
‘
From
whom
?
’
