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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 401/820
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It
was
ten
o
’
clock
when
I
went
out
.
Many
of
the
shops
were
shut
,
and
the
town
was
dull
.
When
I
came
to
Omer
and
Joram
’
s
,
I
found
the
shutters
up
,
but
the
shop
door
standing
open
.
As
I
could
obtain
a
perspective
view
of
Mr
.
Omer
inside
,
smoking
his
pipe
by
the
parlour
door
,
I
entered
,
and
asked
him
how
he
was
.
‘
Why
,
bless
my
life
and
soul
!
’
said
Mr
.
Omer
,
‘
how
do
you
find
yourself
?
Take
a
seat
.
—
Smoke
not
disagreeable
,
I
hope
?
’
‘
By
no
means
,
’
said
I
.
‘
I
like
it
—
in
somebody
else
’
s
pipe
.
’
‘
What
,
not
in
your
own
,
eh
?
’
Mr
.
Omer
returned
,
laughing
.
‘
All
the
better
,
sir
.
Bad
habit
for
a
young
man
.
Take
a
seat
.
I
smoke
,
myself
,
for
the
asthma
.
’
Mr
.
Omer
had
made
room
for
me
,
and
placed
a
chair
.
He
now
sat
down
again
very
much
out
of
breath
,
gasping
at
his
pipe
as
if
it
contained
a
supply
of
that
necessary
,
without
which
he
must
perish
.
‘
I
am
sorry
to
have
heard
bad
news
of
Mr
.
Barkis
,
’
said
I
.
Mr
.
Omer
looked
at
me
,
with
a
steady
countenance
,
and
shook
his
head
.
‘
Do
you
know
how
he
is
tonight
?
’
I
asked
.
‘
The
very
question
I
should
have
put
to
you
,
sir
,
’
returned
Mr
.
Omer
,
‘
but
on
account
of
delicacy
.
It
’
s
one
of
the
drawbacks
of
our
line
of
business
.
When
a
party
’
s
ill
,
we
can
’
t
ask
how
the
party
is
.
’
The
difficulty
had
not
occurred
to
me
;
though
I
had
had
my
apprehensions
too
,
when
I
went
in
,
of
hearing
the
old
tune
.
On
its
being
mentioned
,
I
recognized
it
,
however
,
and
said
as
much
.
