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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 506/820
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I
hurriedly
made
him
a
reply
to
the
effect
,
that
I
hoped
the
error
into
which
I
had
been
betrayed
by
the
desperate
nature
of
my
love
,
did
not
induce
him
to
think
me
mercenary
too
?
‘
I
don
’
t
allude
to
the
matter
in
that
light
,
’
said
Mr
.
Spenlow
.
‘
It
would
be
better
for
yourself
,
and
all
of
us
,
if
you
WERE
mercenary
,
Mr
.
Copperfield
—
I
mean
,
if
you
were
more
discreet
and
less
influenced
by
all
this
youthful
nonsense
.
No
.
I
merely
say
,
with
quite
another
view
,
you
are
probably
aware
I
have
some
property
to
bequeath
to
my
child
?
’
I
certainly
supposed
so
.
‘
And
you
can
hardly
think
,
’
said
Mr
.
Spenlow
,
‘
having
experience
of
what
we
see
,
in
the
Commons
here
,
every
day
,
of
the
various
unaccountable
and
negligent
proceedings
of
men
,
in
respect
of
their
testamentary
arrangements
—
of
all
subjects
,
the
one
on
which
perhaps
the
strangest
revelations
of
human
inconsistency
are
to
be
met
with
—
but
that
mine
are
made
?
’
I
inclined
my
head
in
acquiescence
.
‘
I
should
not
allow
,
’
said
Mr
.
Spenlow
,
with
an
evident
increase
of
pious
sentiment
,
and
slowly
shaking
his
head
as
he
poised
himself
upon
his
toes
and
heels
alternately
,
‘
my
suitable
provision
for
my
child
to
be
influenced
by
a
piece
of
youthful
folly
like
the
present
.
It
is
mere
folly
.
Mere
nonsense
.
In
a
little
while
,
it
will
weigh
lighter
than
any
feather
.
But
I
might
—
I
might
—
if
this
silly
business
were
not
completely
relinquished
altogether
,
be
induced
in
some
anxious
moment
to
guard
her
from
,
and
surround
her
with
protections
against
,
the
consequences
of
any
foolish
step
in
the
way
of
marriage
.
Now
,
Mr
.
Copperfield
,
I
hope
that
you
will
not
render
it
necessary
for
me
to
open
,
even
for
a
quarter
of
an
hour
,
that
closed
page
in
the
book
of
life
,
and
unsettle
,
even
for
a
quarter
of
an
hour
,
grave
affairs
long
since
composed
.
’
There
was
a
serenity
,
a
tranquillity
,
a
calm
sunset
air
about
him
,
which
quite
affected
me
.
He
was
so
peaceful
and
resigned
—
clearly
had
his
affairs
in
such
perfect
train
,
and
so
systematically
wound
up
—
that
he
was
a
man
to
feel
touched
in
the
contemplation
of
.
I
really
think
I
saw
tears
rise
to
his
eyes
,
from
the
depth
of
his
own
feeling
of
all
this
.
But
what
could
I
do
?
I
could
not
deny
Dora
and
my
own
heart
.
When
he
told
me
I
had
better
take
a
week
to
consider
of
what
he
had
said
,
how
could
I
say
I
wouldn
’
t
take
a
week
,
yet
how
could
I
fail
to
know
that
no
amount
of
weeks
could
influence
such
love
as
mine
?
‘
In
the
meantime
,
confer
with
Miss
Trotwood
,
or
with
any
person
with
any
knowledge
of
life
,
’
said
Mr
.
Spenlow
,
adjusting
his
cravat
with
both
hands
.
‘
Take
a
week
,
Mr
.
Copperfield
.
’
