-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 682/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
I
pressed
his
manly
hand
again
,
and
told
him
I
would
charge
myself
to
do
this
as
well
as
I
could
.
‘
I
thankee
,
sir
,
’
he
answered
.
‘
‘
Twas
kind
of
you
to
meet
me
.
‘
Twas
kind
of
you
to
bear
him
company
down
.
Mas
’
r
Davy
,
I
unnerstan
’
very
well
,
though
my
aunt
will
come
to
Lon
’
on
afore
they
sail
,
and
they
’
ll
unite
once
more
,
that
I
am
not
like
to
see
him
agen
.
I
fare
to
feel
sure
on
’
t
.
We
doen
’
t
say
so
,
but
so
‘
twill
be
,
and
better
so
.
The
last
you
see
on
him
—
the
very
last
—
will
you
give
him
the
lovingest
duty
and
thanks
of
the
orphan
,
as
he
was
ever
more
than
a
father
to
?
’
This
I
also
promised
,
faithfully
.
‘
I
thankee
agen
,
sir
,
’
he
said
,
heartily
shaking
hands
.
‘
I
know
wheer
you
’
re
a
-
going
.
Good
-
bye
!
’
With
a
slight
wave
of
his
hand
,
as
though
to
explain
to
me
that
he
could
not
enter
the
old
place
,
he
turned
away
.
As
I
looked
after
his
figure
,
crossing
the
waste
in
the
moonlight
,
I
saw
him
turn
his
face
towards
a
strip
of
silvery
light
upon
the
sea
,
and
pass
on
,
looking
at
it
,
until
he
was
a
shadow
in
the
distance
.
The
door
of
the
boat
-
house
stood
open
when
I
approached
;
and
,
on
entering
,
I
found
it
emptied
of
all
its
furniture
,
saving
one
of
the
old
lockers
,
on
which
Mrs
.
Gummidge
,
with
a
basket
on
her
knee
,
was
seated
,
looking
at
Mr
.
Peggotty
.
He
leaned
his
elbow
on
the
rough
chimney
-
piece
,
and
gazed
upon
a
few
expiring
embers
in
the
grate
;
but
he
raised
his
head
,
hopefully
,
on
my
coming
in
,
and
spoke
in
a
cheery
manner
.
‘
Come
,
according
to
promise
,
to
bid
farewell
to
‘
t
,
eh
,
Mas
’
r
Davy
?
’
he
said
,
taking
up
the
candle
.
‘
Bare
enough
,
now
,
an
’
t
it
?
’
‘
Indeed
you
have
made
good
use
of
the
time
,
’
said
I
.
‘
Why
,
we
have
not
been
idle
,
sir
.
Missis
Gummidge
has
worked
like
a
—
I
doen
’
t
know
what
Missis
Gummidge
an
’
t
worked
like
,
’
said
Mr
.
Peggotty
,
looking
at
her
,
at
a
loss
for
a
sufficiently
approving
simile
.
Mrs
.
Gummidge
,
leaning
on
her
basket
,
made
no
observation
.
‘
Theer
’
s
the
very
locker
that
you
used
to
sit
on
,
‘
long
with
Em
’
ly
!
’
said
Mr
.
Peggotty
,
in
a
whisper
.
‘
I
’
m
a
-
going
to
carry
it
away
with
me
,
last
of
all
.
And
heer
’
s
your
old
little
bedroom
,
see
,
Mas
’
r
Davy
!
A
’
most
as
bleak
tonight
,
as
‘
art
could
wish
!
’
