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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 408/820
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My
eyes
were
dim
and
so
were
Mr
.
Peggotty
’
s
;
but
I
repeated
in
a
whisper
,
‘
With
the
tide
?
’
‘
People
can
’
t
die
,
along
the
coast
,
’
said
Mr
.
Peggotty
,
‘
except
when
the
tide
’
s
pretty
nigh
out
.
They
can
’
t
be
born
,
unless
it
’
s
pretty
nigh
in
—
not
properly
born
,
till
flood
.
He
’
s
a
going
out
with
the
tide
It
’
s
ebb
at
half
-
arter
three
,
slack
water
half
an
hour
.
If
he
lives
till
it
turns
,
he
’
ll
hold
his
own
till
past
the
flood
,
and
go
out
with
the
next
tide
.
’
We
remained
there
,
watching
him
,
a
long
time
—
hours
.
What
mysterious
influence
my
presence
had
upon
him
in
that
state
of
his
senses
,
I
shall
not
pretend
to
say
;
but
when
he
at
last
began
to
wander
feebly
,
it
is
certain
he
was
muttering
about
driving
me
to
school
.
‘
He
’
s
coming
to
himself
,
’
said
Peggotty
.
Mr
.
Peggotty
touched
me
,
and
whispered
with
much
awe
and
reverence
.
‘
They
are
both
a
-
going
out
fast
.
’
‘
Barkis
,
my
dear
!
’
said
Peggotty
.
‘
C
.
P
.
Barkis
,
’
he
cried
faintly
.
‘
No
better
woman
anywhere
!
’
‘
Look
!
Here
’
s
Master
Davy
!
’
said
Peggotty
.
For
he
now
opened
his
eyes
.
I
was
on
the
point
of
asking
him
if
he
knew
me
,
when
he
tried
to
stretch
out
his
arm
,
and
said
to
me
,
distinctly
,
with
a
pleasant
smile
:
