-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Дэвид Копперфильд
-
- Стр. 709/820
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
Ah
!
but
I
didn
’
t
like
to
tell
you
,
’
says
Dora
,
‘
then
,
how
I
had
cried
over
them
,
because
I
believed
you
really
liked
me
!
When
I
can
run
about
again
as
I
used
to
do
,
Doady
,
let
us
go
and
see
those
places
where
we
were
such
a
silly
couple
,
shall
we
?
And
take
some
of
the
old
walks
?
And
not
forget
poor
papa
?
’
‘
Yes
,
we
will
,
and
have
some
happy
days
.
So
you
must
make
haste
to
get
well
,
my
dear
.
’
‘
Oh
,
I
shall
soon
do
that
!
I
am
so
much
better
,
you
don
’
t
know
!
’
It
is
evening
;
and
I
sit
in
the
same
chair
,
by
the
same
bed
,
with
the
same
face
turned
towards
me
.
We
have
been
silent
,
and
there
is
a
smile
upon
her
face
.
I
have
ceased
to
carry
my
light
burden
up
and
down
stairs
now
.
She
lies
here
all
the
day
.
‘
Doady
!
’
‘
My
dear
Dora
!
’
‘
You
won
’
t
think
what
I
am
going
to
say
,
unreasonable
,
after
what
you
told
me
,
such
a
little
while
ago
,
of
Mr
.
Wickfield
’
s
not
being
well
?
I
want
to
see
Agnes
.
Very
much
I
want
to
see
her
.
’
‘
I
will
write
to
her
,
my
dear
.
’
‘
Will
you
?
’
