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Главная
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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 625/820
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He
said
this
,
musing
,
in
a
low
,
frightened
voice
;
and
walked
across
the
little
room
.
‘
And
yet
,
’
he
added
,
‘
Mas
’
r
Davy
,
I
have
felt
so
sure
as
she
was
living
—
I
have
know
’
d
,
awake
and
sleeping
,
as
it
was
so
trew
that
I
should
find
her
—
I
have
been
so
led
on
by
it
,
and
held
up
by
it
-
that
I
doen
’
t
believe
I
can
have
been
deceived
.
No
!
Em
’
ly
’
s
alive
!
’
He
put
his
hand
down
firmly
on
the
table
,
and
set
his
sunburnt
face
into
a
resolute
expression
.
‘
My
niece
,
Em
’
ly
,
is
alive
,
sir
!
’
he
said
,
steadfastly
.
‘
I
doen
’
t
know
wheer
it
comes
from
,
or
how
’
tis
,
but
I
am
told
as
she
’
s
alive
!
’
He
looked
almost
like
a
man
inspired
,
as
he
said
it
.
I
waited
for
a
few
moments
,
until
he
could
give
me
his
undivided
attention
;
and
then
proceeded
to
explain
the
precaution
,
that
,
it
had
occurred
to
me
last
night
,
it
would
be
wise
to
take
.
‘
Now
,
my
dear
friend
—
‘
I
began
.
‘
Thankee
,
thankee
,
kind
sir
,
’
he
said
,
grasping
my
hand
in
both
of
his
.
‘
If
she
should
make
her
way
to
London
,
which
is
likely
—
for
where
could
she
lose
herself
so
readily
as
in
this
vast
city
;
and
what
would
she
wish
to
do
,
but
lose
and
hide
herself
,
if
she
does
not
go
home
?
—
—
’
‘
And
she
won
’
t
go
home
,
’
he
interposed
,
shaking
his
head
mournfully
.
‘
If
she
had
left
of
her
own
accord
,
she
might
;
not
as
It
was
,
sir
.
’
