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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 517/820
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‘
I
don
’
t
know
how
it
is
,
Agnes
;
I
seem
to
want
some
faculty
of
mind
that
I
ought
to
have
.
You
were
so
much
in
the
habit
of
thinking
for
me
,
in
the
happy
old
days
here
,
and
I
came
so
naturally
to
you
for
counsel
and
support
,
that
I
really
think
I
have
missed
acquiring
it
.
’
‘
And
what
is
it
?
’
said
Agnes
,
cheerfully
.
‘
I
don
’
t
know
what
to
call
it
,
’
I
replied
.
‘
I
think
I
am
earnest
and
persevering
?
’
‘
I
am
sure
of
it
,
’
said
Agnes
.
‘
And
patient
,
Agnes
?
’
I
inquired
,
with
a
little
hesitation
.
‘
Yes
,
’
returned
Agnes
,
laughing
.
‘
Pretty
well
.
’
‘
And
yet
,
’
said
I
,
‘
I
get
so
miserable
and
worried
,
and
am
so
unsteady
and
irresolute
in
my
power
of
assuring
myself
,
that
I
know
I
must
want
—
shall
I
call
it
—
reliance
,
of
some
kind
?
’
‘
Call
it
so
,
if
you
will
,
’
said
Agnes
.
‘
Well
!
’
I
returned
.
‘
See
here
!
You
come
to
London
,
I
rely
on
you
,
and
I
have
an
object
and
a
course
at
once
.
I
am
driven
out
of
it
,
I
come
here
,
and
in
a
moment
I
feel
an
altered
person
.
The
circumstances
that
distressed
me
are
not
changed
,
since
I
came
into
this
room
;
but
an
influence
comes
over
me
in
that
short
interval
that
alters
me
,
oh
,
how
much
for
the
better
!
What
is
it
?
What
is
your
secret
,
Agnes
?
’
