-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 577/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
I
have
come
legally
to
man
’
s
estate
.
I
have
attained
the
dignity
of
twenty
-
one
.
But
this
is
a
sort
of
dignity
that
may
be
thrust
upon
one
.
Let
me
think
what
I
have
achieved
.
I
have
tamed
that
savage
stenographic
mystery
.
I
make
a
respectable
income
by
it
.
I
am
in
high
repute
for
my
accomplishment
in
all
pertaining
to
the
art
,
and
am
joined
with
eleven
others
in
reporting
the
debates
in
Parliament
for
a
Morning
Newspaper
.
Night
after
night
,
I
record
predictions
that
never
come
to
pass
,
professions
that
are
never
fulfilled
,
explanations
that
are
only
meant
to
mystify
.
I
wallow
in
words
.
Britannia
,
that
unfortunate
female
,
is
always
before
me
,
like
a
trussed
fowl
:
skewered
through
and
through
with
office
-
pens
,
and
bound
hand
and
foot
with
red
tape
.
I
am
sufficiently
behind
the
scenes
to
know
the
worth
of
political
life
.
I
am
quite
an
Infidel
about
it
,
and
shall
never
be
converted
.
My
dear
old
Traddles
has
tried
his
hand
at
the
same
pursuit
,
but
it
is
not
in
Traddles
’
s
way
.
He
is
perfectly
good
-
humoured
respecting
his
failure
,
and
reminds
me
that
he
always
did
consider
himself
slow
.
He
has
occasional
employment
on
the
same
newspaper
,
in
getting
up
the
facts
of
dry
subjects
,
to
be
written
about
and
embellished
by
more
fertile
minds
.
He
is
called
to
the
bar
;
and
with
admirable
industry
and
self
-
denial
has
scraped
another
hundred
pounds
together
,
to
fee
a
Conveyancer
whose
chambers
he
attends
.
A
great
deal
of
very
hot
port
wine
was
consumed
at
his
call
;
and
,
considering
the
figure
,
I
should
think
the
Inner
Temple
must
have
made
a
profit
by
it
.
I
have
come
out
in
another
way
.
I
have
taken
with
fear
and
trembling
to
authorship
.
I
wrote
a
little
something
,
in
secret
,
and
sent
it
to
a
magazine
,
and
it
was
published
in
the
magazine
.
Since
then
,
I
have
taken
heart
to
write
a
good
many
trifling
pieces
.
Now
,
I
am
regularly
paid
for
them
.
Altogether
,
I
am
well
off
,
when
I
tell
my
income
on
the
fingers
of
my
left
hand
,
I
pass
the
third
finger
and
take
in
the
fourth
to
the
middle
joint
.
We
have
removed
,
from
Buckingham
Street
,
to
a
pleasant
little
cottage
very
near
the
one
I
looked
at
,
when
my
enthusiasm
first
came
on
.
My
aunt
,
however
(
who
has
sold
the
house
at
Dover
,
to
good
advantage
)
,
is
not
going
to
remain
here
,
but
intends
removing
herself
to
a
still
more
tiny
cottage
close
at
hand
.
What
does
this
portend
?
My
marriage
?
Yes
!
Yes
!
I
am
going
to
be
married
to
Dora
!
Miss
Lavinia
and
Miss
Clarissa
have
given
their
consent
;
and
if
ever
canary
birds
were
in
a
flutter
,
they
are
.
Miss
Lavinia
,
self
-
charged
with
the
superintendence
of
my
darling
’
s
wardrobe
,
is
constantly
cutting
out
brown
-
paper
cuirasses
,
and
differing
in
opinion
from
a
highly
respectable
young
man
,
with
a
long
bundle
,
and
a
yard
measure
under
his
arm
.
A
dressmaker
,
always
stabbed
in
the
breast
with
a
needle
and
thread
,
boards
and
lodges
in
the
house
;
and
seems
to
me
,
eating
,
drinking
,
or
sleeping
,
never
to
take
her
thimble
off
.
They
make
a
lay
-
figure
of
my
dear
.
They
are
always
sending
for
her
to
come
and
try
something
on
.
We
can
’
t
be
happy
together
for
five
minutes
in
the
evening
,
but
some
intrusive
female
knocks
at
the
door
,
and
says
,
‘
Oh
,
if
you
please
,
Miss
Dora
,
would
you
step
upstairs
!
’
Miss
Clarissa
and
my
aunt
roam
all
over
London
,
to
find
out
articles
of
furniture
for
Dora
and
me
to
look
at
.
It
would
be
better
for
them
to
buy
the
goods
at
once
,
without
this
ceremony
of
inspection
;
for
,
when
we
go
to
see
a
kitchen
fender
and
meat
-
screen
,
Dora
sees
a
Chinese
house
for
Jip
,
with
little
bells
on
the
top
,
and
prefers
that
.
And
it
takes
a
long
time
to
accustom
Jip
to
his
new
residence
,
after
we
have
bought
it
;
whenever
he
goes
in
or
out
,
he
makes
all
the
little
bells
ring
,
and
is
horribly
frightened
.
Peggotty
comes
up
to
make
herself
useful
,
and
falls
to
work
immediately
.
Her
department
appears
to
be
,
to
clean
everything
over
and
over
again
.
She
rubs
everything
that
can
be
rubbed
,
until
it
shines
,
like
her
own
honest
forehead
,
with
perpetual
friction
.
And
now
it
is
,
that
I
begin
to
see
her
solitary
brother
passing
through
the
dark
streets
at
night
,
and
looking
,
as
he
goes
,
among
the
wandering
faces
.
I
never
speak
to
him
at
such
an
hour
.
I
know
too
well
,
as
his
grave
figure
passes
onward
,
what
he
seeks
,
and
what
he
dreads
.
