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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 534/820
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We
shook
hands
heartily
.
At
first
,
neither
of
us
could
speak
a
word
.
‘
Mas
’
r
Davy
!
’
he
said
,
gripping
me
tight
,
‘
it
do
my
art
good
to
see
you
,
sir
.
Well
met
,
well
met
!
’
‘
Well
met
,
my
dear
old
friend
!
’
said
I
.
‘
I
had
my
thowts
o
’
coming
to
make
inquiration
for
you
,
sir
,
tonight
,
’
he
said
,
‘
but
knowing
as
your
aunt
was
living
along
wi
’
you
—
fur
I
’
ve
been
down
yonder
—
Yarmouth
way
—
I
was
afeerd
it
was
too
late
.
I
should
have
come
early
in
the
morning
,
sir
,
afore
going
away
.
’
‘
Again
?
’
said
I
.
‘
Yes
,
sir
,
’
he
replied
,
patiently
shaking
his
head
,
‘
I
’
m
away
tomorrow
.
’
‘
Where
were
you
going
now
?
’
I
asked
.
‘
Well
!
’
he
replied
,
shaking
the
snow
out
of
his
long
hair
,
‘
I
was
a
-
going
to
turn
in
somewheers
.
’
In
those
days
there
was
a
side
-
entrance
to
the
stable
-
yard
of
the
Golden
Cross
,
the
inn
so
memorable
to
me
in
connexion
with
his
misfortune
,
nearly
opposite
to
where
we
stood
.
I
pointed
out
the
gateway
,
put
my
arm
through
his
,
and
we
went
across
.
Two
or
three
public
-
rooms
opened
out
of
the
stable
-
yard
;
and
looking
into
one
of
them
,
and
finding
it
empty
,
and
a
good
fire
burning
,
I
took
him
in
there
.
When
I
saw
him
in
the
light
,
I
observed
,
not
only
that
his
hair
was
long
and
ragged
,
but
that
his
face
was
burnt
dark
by
the
sun
.
He
was
greyer
,
the
lines
in
his
face
and
forehead
were
deeper
,
and
he
had
every
appearance
of
having
toiled
and
wandered
through
all
varieties
of
weather
;
but
he
looked
very
strong
,
and
like
a
man
upheld
by
steadfastness
of
purpose
,
whom
nothing
could
tire
out
.
He
shook
the
snow
from
his
hat
and
clothes
,
and
brushed
it
away
from
his
face
,
while
I
was
inwardly
making
these
remarks
.
As
he
sat
down
opposite
to
me
at
a
table
,
with
his
back
to
the
door
by
which
we
had
entered
,
he
put
out
his
rough
hand
again
,
and
grasped
mine
warmly
.
