-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 604/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
Not
a
word
,
boy
!
’
he
pursued
in
a
whisper
;
‘
leave
all
the
blame
with
Dick
—
simple
Dick
—
mad
Dick
.
I
have
been
thinking
,
sir
,
for
some
time
,
that
I
was
getting
it
,
and
now
I
have
got
it
.
After
what
you
have
said
to
me
,
I
am
sure
I
have
got
it
.
All
right
!
’
Not
another
word
did
Mr
.
Dick
utter
on
the
subject
;
but
he
made
a
very
telegraph
of
himself
for
the
next
half
-
hour
(
to
the
great
disturbance
of
my
aunt
’
s
mind
)
,
to
enjoin
inviolable
secrecy
on
me
.
To
my
surprise
,
I
heard
no
more
about
it
for
some
two
or
three
weeks
,
though
I
was
sufficiently
interested
in
the
result
of
his
endeavours
;
descrying
a
strange
gleam
of
good
sense
—
I
say
nothing
of
good
feeling
,
for
that
he
always
exhibited
—
in
the
conclusion
to
which
he
had
come
.
At
last
I
began
to
believe
,
that
,
in
the
flighty
and
unsettled
state
of
his
mind
,
he
had
either
forgotten
his
intention
or
abandoned
it
.
One
fair
evening
,
when
Dora
was
not
inclined
to
go
out
,
my
aunt
and
I
strolled
up
to
the
Doctor
’
s
cottage
.
It
was
autumn
,
when
there
were
no
debates
to
vex
the
evening
air
;
and
I
remember
how
the
leaves
smelt
like
our
garden
at
Blunderstone
as
we
trod
them
under
foot
,
and
how
the
old
,
unhappy
feeling
,
seemed
to
go
by
,
on
the
sighing
wind
.
It
was
twilight
when
we
reached
the
cottage
.
Mrs
.
Strong
was
just
coming
out
of
the
garden
,
where
Mr
.
Dick
yet
lingered
,
busy
with
his
knife
,
helping
the
gardener
to
point
some
stakes
.
The
Doctor
was
engaged
with
someone
in
his
study
;
but
the
visitor
would
be
gone
directly
,
Mrs
.
Strong
said
,
and
begged
us
to
remain
and
see
him
.
We
went
into
the
drawing
-
room
with
her
,
and
sat
down
by
the
darkening
window
.
There
was
never
any
ceremony
about
the
visits
of
such
old
friends
and
neighbours
as
we
were
.
We
had
not
sat
here
many
minutes
,
when
Mrs
.
Markleham
,
who
usually
contrived
to
be
in
a
fuss
about
something
,
came
bustling
in
,
with
her
newspaper
in
her
hand
,
and
said
,
out
of
breath
,
‘
My
goodness
gracious
,
Annie
,
why
didn
’
t
you
tell
me
there
was
someone
in
the
Study
!
’
‘
My
dear
mama
,
’
she
quietly
returned
,
‘
how
could
I
know
that
you
desired
the
information
?
’
‘
Desired
the
information
!
’
said
Mrs
.
Markleham
,
sinking
on
the
sofa
.
‘
I
never
had
such
a
turn
in
all
my
life
!
’
‘
Have
you
been
to
the
Study
,
then
,
mama
?
’
asked
Annie
.
‘
BEEN
to
the
Study
,
my
dear
!
’
she
returned
emphatically
.
‘
Indeed
I
have
!
I
came
upon
the
amiable
creature
—
if
you
’
ll
imagine
my
feelings
,
Miss
Trotwood
and
David
—
in
the
act
of
making
his
will
.
’
Her
daughter
looked
round
from
the
window
quickly
.
