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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 763/820
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Never
pausing
for
an
answer
to
anything
he
said
,
Traddles
,
who
had
clapped
me
into
an
easy
-
chair
by
the
fire
,
all
this
time
impetuously
stirred
the
fire
with
one
hand
,
and
pulled
at
my
neck
-
kerchief
with
the
other
,
under
some
wild
delusion
that
it
was
a
great
-
coat
.
Without
putting
down
the
poker
,
he
now
hugged
me
again
;
and
I
hugged
him
;
and
,
both
laughing
,
and
both
wiping
our
eyes
,
we
both
sat
down
,
and
shook
hands
across
the
hearth
.
‘
To
think
,
’
said
Traddles
,
‘
that
you
should
have
been
so
nearly
coming
home
as
you
must
have
been
,
my
dear
old
boy
,
and
not
at
the
ceremony
!
’
‘
What
ceremony
,
my
dear
Traddles
?
’
‘
Good
gracious
me
!
’
cried
Traddles
,
opening
his
eyes
in
his
old
way
.
‘
Didn
’
t
you
get
my
last
letter
?
’
‘
Certainly
not
,
if
it
referred
to
any
ceremony
.
’
‘
Why
,
my
dear
Copperfield
,
’
said
Traddles
,
sticking
his
hair
upright
with
both
hands
,
and
then
putting
his
hands
on
my
knees
,
‘
I
am
married
!
’
‘
Married
!
’
I
cried
joyfully
.
‘
Lord
bless
me
,
yes
,
!
’
said
Traddles
—
‘
by
the
Reverend
Horace
—
to
Sophy
—
down
in
Devonshire
.
Why
,
my
dear
boy
,
she
’
s
behind
the
window
curtain
!
Look
here
!
’
To
my
amazement
,
the
dearest
girl
in
the
world
came
at
that
same
instant
,
laughing
and
blushing
,
from
her
place
of
concealment
.
And
a
more
cheerful
,
amiable
,
honest
,
happy
,
bright
-
looking
bride
,
I
believe
(
as
I
could
not
help
saying
on
the
spot
)
the
world
never
saw
.
I
kissed
her
as
an
old
acquaintance
should
,
and
wished
them
joy
with
all
my
might
of
heart
.
