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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 770/820
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‘
You
don
’
t
remember
me
?
’
said
I
.
‘
Well
,
sir
,
’
returned
Mr
.
Chillip
,
smiling
very
meekly
,
and
shaking
his
head
as
he
surveyed
me
,
‘
I
have
a
kind
of
an
impression
that
something
in
your
countenance
is
familiar
to
me
,
sir
;
but
I
couldn
’
t
lay
my
hand
upon
your
name
,
really
.
’
‘
And
yet
you
knew
it
,
long
before
I
knew
it
myself
,
’
I
returned
.
‘
Did
I
indeed
,
sir
?
’
said
Mr
.
Chillip
.
‘
Is
it
possible
that
I
had
the
honour
,
sir
,
of
officiating
when
—
?
’
‘
Yes
,
’
said
I
.
‘
Dear
me
!
’
cried
Mr
.
Chillip
.
‘
But
no
doubt
you
are
a
good
deal
changed
since
then
,
sir
?
’
‘
Probably
,
’
said
I
.
‘
Well
,
sir
,
’
observed
Mr
.
Chillip
,
‘
I
hope
you
’
ll
excuse
me
,
if
I
am
compelled
to
ask
the
favour
of
your
name
?
’
On
my
telling
him
my
name
,
he
was
really
moved
.
He
quite
shook
hands
with
me
—
which
was
a
violent
proceeding
for
him
,
his
usual
course
being
to
slide
a
tepid
little
fish
-
slice
,
an
inch
or
two
in
advance
of
his
hip
,
and
evince
the
greatest
discomposure
when
anybody
grappled
with
it
.
Even
now
,
he
put
his
hand
in
his
coat
-
pocket
as
soon
as
he
could
disengage
it
,
and
seemed
relieved
when
he
had
got
it
safe
back
.
‘
Dear
me
,
sir
!
’
said
Mr
.
