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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 760/820
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‘
Mr
.
Traddles
,
’
said
the
spare
waiter
.
‘
Number
two
in
the
Court
.
’
The
potential
waiter
waved
him
away
,
and
turned
,
gravely
,
to
me
.
‘
I
was
inquiring
,
’
said
I
,
‘
whether
Mr
.
Traddles
,
at
number
two
in
the
Court
,
has
not
a
rising
reputation
among
the
lawyers
?
’
‘
Never
heard
his
name
,
’
said
the
waiter
,
in
a
rich
husky
voice
.
I
felt
quite
apologetic
for
Traddles
.
‘
He
’
s
a
young
man
,
sure
?
’
said
the
portentous
waiter
,
fixing
his
eyes
severely
on
me
.
‘
How
long
has
he
been
in
the
Inn
?
’
‘
Not
above
three
years
,
’
said
I
.
The
waiter
,
who
I
supposed
had
lived
in
his
churchwarden
’
s
pew
for
forty
years
,
could
not
pursue
such
an
insignificant
subject
.
He
asked
me
what
I
would
have
for
dinner
?
I
felt
I
was
in
England
again
,
and
really
was
quite
cast
down
on
Traddles
’
s
account
.
There
seemed
to
be
no
hope
for
him
.
I
meekly
ordered
a
bit
of
fish
and
a
steak
,
and
stood
before
the
fire
musing
on
his
obscurity
.
