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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 691/820
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Mr
.
Micawber
,
with
his
hand
upon
the
ruler
in
his
breast
,
stood
erect
before
the
door
,
most
unmistakably
contemplating
one
of
his
fellow
-
men
,
and
that
man
his
employer
.
‘
What
are
you
waiting
for
?
’
said
Uriah
.
‘
Micawber
!
did
you
hear
me
tell
you
not
to
wait
?
’
‘
Yes
!
’
replied
the
immovable
Mr
.
Micawber
.
‘
Then
why
DO
you
wait
?
’
said
Uriah
.
‘
Because
I
—
in
short
,
choose
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Micawber
,
with
a
burst
.
Uriah
’
s
cheeks
lost
colour
,
and
an
unwholesome
paleness
,
still
faintly
tinged
by
his
pervading
red
,
overspread
them
.
He
looked
at
Mr
.
Micawber
attentively
,
with
his
whole
face
breathing
short
and
quick
in
every
feature
.
‘
You
are
a
dissipated
fellow
,
as
all
the
world
knows
,
’
he
said
,
with
an
effort
at
a
smile
,
‘
and
I
am
afraid
you
’
ll
oblige
me
to
get
rid
of
you
.
Go
along
!
I
’
ll
talk
to
you
presently
.
’
‘
If
there
is
a
scoundrel
on
this
earth
,
’
said
Mr
.
Micawber
,
suddenly
breaking
out
again
with
the
utmost
vehemence
,
‘
with
whom
I
have
already
talked
too
much
,
that
scoundrel
’
s
name
is
—
HEEP
!
’
Uriah
fell
back
,
as
if
he
had
been
struck
or
stung
.
Looking
slowly
round
upon
us
with
the
darkest
and
wickedest
expression
that
his
face
could
wear
,
he
said
,
in
a
lower
voice
:
