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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 444/820
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That
sagacious
Miss
Mills
,
too
;
that
amiable
,
though
quite
used
up
,
recluse
;
that
little
patriarch
of
something
less
than
twenty
,
who
had
done
with
the
world
,
and
mustn
’
t
on
any
account
have
the
slumbering
echoes
in
the
caverns
of
Memory
awakened
;
what
a
kind
thing
she
did
!
‘
Mr
.
Copperfield
,
’
said
Miss
Mills
,
‘
come
to
this
side
of
the
carriage
a
moment
—
if
you
can
spare
a
moment
.
I
want
to
speak
to
you
.
’
Behold
me
,
on
my
gallant
grey
,
bending
at
the
side
of
Miss
Mills
,
with
my
hand
upon
the
carriage
door
!
‘
Dora
is
coming
to
stay
with
me
.
She
is
coming
home
with
me
the
day
after
tomorrow
.
If
you
would
like
to
call
,
I
am
sure
papa
would
be
happy
to
see
you
.
’
What
could
I
do
but
invoke
a
silent
blessing
on
Miss
Mills
’
s
head
,
and
store
Miss
Mills
’
s
address
in
the
securest
corner
of
my
memory
!
What
could
I
do
but
tell
Miss
Mills
,
with
grateful
looks
and
fervent
words
,
how
much
I
appreciated
her
good
offices
,
and
what
an
inestimable
value
I
set
upon
her
friendship
!
Then
Miss
Mills
benignantly
dismissed
me
,
saying
,
‘
Go
back
to
Dora
!
’
and
I
went
;
and
Dora
leaned
out
of
the
carriage
to
talk
to
me
,
and
we
talked
all
the
rest
of
the
way
;
and
I
rode
my
gallant
grey
so
close
to
the
wheel
that
I
grazed
his
near
fore
leg
against
it
,
and
‘
took
the
bark
off
’
,
as
his
owner
told
me
,
‘
to
the
tune
of
three
pun
’
sivin
’
—
which
I
paid
,
and
thought
extremely
cheap
for
so
much
joy
.
What
time
Miss
Mills
sat
looking
at
the
moon
,
murmuring
verses
-
and
recalling
,
I
suppose
,
the
ancient
days
when
she
and
earth
had
anything
in
common
.
Norwood
was
many
miles
too
near
,
and
we
reached
it
many
hours
too
soon
;
but
Mr
.
Spenlow
came
to
himself
a
little
short
of
it
,
and
said
,
‘
You
must
come
in
,
Copperfield
,
and
rest
!
’
and
I
consenting
,
we
had
sandwiches
and
wine
-
and
-
water
.
In
the
light
room
,
Dora
blushing
looked
so
lovely
,
that
I
could
not
tear
myself
away
,
but
sat
there
staring
,
in
a
dream
,
until
the
snoring
of
Mr
.
Spenlow
inspired
me
with
sufficient
consciousness
to
take
my
leave
.
So
we
parted
;
I
riding
all
the
way
to
London
with
the
farewell
touch
of
Dora
’
s
hand
still
light
on
mine
,
recalling
every
incident
and
word
ten
thousand
times
;
lying
down
in
my
own
bed
at
last
,
as
enraptured
a
young
noodle
as
ever
was
carried
out
of
his
five
wits
by
love
.
When
I
awoke
next
morning
,
I
was
resolute
to
declare
my
passion
to
Dora
,
and
know
my
fate
.
Happiness
or
misery
was
now
the
question
.
There
was
no
other
question
that
I
knew
of
in
the
world
,
and
only
Dora
could
give
the
answer
to
it
.
I
passed
three
days
in
a
luxury
of
wretchedness
,
torturing
myself
by
putting
every
conceivable
variety
of
discouraging
construction
on
all
that
ever
had
taken
place
between
Dora
and
me
.
At
last
,
arrayed
for
the
purpose
at
a
vast
expense
,
I
went
to
Miss
Mills
’
s
,
fraught
with
a
declaration
.
How
many
times
I
went
up
and
down
the
street
,
and
round
the
square
-
painfully
aware
of
being
a
much
better
answer
to
the
old
riddle
than
the
original
one
—
before
I
could
persuade
myself
to
go
up
the
steps
and
knock
,
is
no
matter
now
.
Even
when
,
at
last
,
I
had
knocked
,
and
was
waiting
at
the
door
,
I
had
some
flurried
thought
of
asking
if
that
were
Mr
.
Blackboy
’
s
(
in
imitation
of
poor
Barkis
)
,
begging
pardon
,
and
retreating
.
But
I
kept
my
ground
.
