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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 639/820
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I
sat
in
silent
amazement
.
‘
Betsey
Trotwood
don
’
t
look
a
likely
subject
for
the
tender
passion
,
’
said
my
aunt
,
composedly
,
‘
but
the
time
was
,
Trot
,
when
she
believed
in
that
man
most
entirely
.
When
she
loved
him
,
Trot
,
right
well
.
When
there
was
no
proof
of
attachment
and
affection
that
she
would
not
have
given
him
.
He
repaid
her
by
breaking
her
fortune
,
and
nearly
breaking
her
heart
.
So
she
put
all
that
sort
of
sentiment
,
once
and
for
ever
,
in
a
grave
,
and
filled
it
up
,
and
flattened
it
down
.
’
‘
My
dear
,
good
aunt
!
’
‘
I
left
him
,
’
my
aunt
proceeded
,
laying
her
hand
as
usual
on
the
back
of
mine
,
‘
generously
.
I
may
say
at
this
distance
of
time
,
Trot
,
that
I
left
him
generously
.
He
had
been
so
cruel
to
me
,
that
I
might
have
effected
a
separation
on
easy
terms
for
myself
;
but
I
did
not
.
He
soon
made
ducks
and
drakes
of
what
I
gave
him
,
sank
lower
and
lower
,
married
another
woman
,
I
believe
,
became
an
adventurer
,
a
gambler
,
and
a
cheat
.
What
he
is
now
,
you
see
.
But
he
was
a
fine
-
looking
man
when
I
married
him
,
’
said
my
aunt
,
with
an
echo
of
her
old
pride
and
admiration
in
her
tone
;
‘
and
I
believed
him
—
I
was
a
fool
!
—
to
be
the
soul
of
honour
!
’
She
gave
my
hand
a
squeeze
,
and
shook
her
head
.
‘
He
is
nothing
to
me
now
,
Trot
-
less
than
nothing
But
,
sooner
than
have
him
punished
for
his
offences
(
as
he
would
be
if
he
prowled
about
in
this
country
)
,
I
give
him
more
money
than
I
can
afford
,
at
intervals
when
he
reappears
,
to
go
away
.
I
was
a
fool
when
I
married
him
;
and
I
am
so
far
an
incurable
fool
on
that
subject
,
that
,
for
the
sake
of
what
I
once
believed
him
to
be
,
I
wouldn
’
t
have
even
this
shadow
of
my
idle
fancy
hardly
dealt
with
.
For
I
was
in
earnest
,
Trot
,
if
ever
a
woman
was
.
’
My
aunt
dismissed
the
matter
with
a
heavy
sigh
,
and
smoothed
her
dress
.
‘
There
,
my
dear
!
’
she
said
.
‘
Now
you
know
the
beginning
,
middle
,
and
end
,
and
all
about
it
.
We
won
’
t
mention
the
subject
to
one
another
any
more
;
neither
,
of
course
,
will
you
mention
it
to
anybody
else
.
This
is
my
grumpy
,
frumpy
story
,
and
we
’
ll
keep
it
to
ourselves
,
Trot
!
’
Ilaboured
hard
at
my
book
,
without
allowing
it
to
interfere
with
the
punctual
discharge
of
my
newspaper
duties
;
and
it
came
out
and
was
very
successful
.
I
was
not
stunned
by
the
praise
which
sounded
in
my
ears
,
notwithstanding
that
I
was
keenly
alive
to
it
,
and
thought
better
of
my
own
performance
,
I
have
little
doubt
,
than
anybody
else
did
.
It
has
always
been
in
my
observation
of
human
nature
,
that
a
man
who
has
any
good
reason
to
believe
in
himself
never
flourishes
himself
before
the
faces
of
other
people
in
order
that
they
may
believe
in
him
.
For
this
reason
,
I
retained
my
modesty
in
very
self
-
respect
;
and
the
more
praise
I
got
,
the
more
I
tried
to
deserve
.
