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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Дэвид Копперфильд
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- Стр. 8/820
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‘
Not
much
,
I
fear
,
’
returned
my
mother
.
‘
Not
so
much
as
I
could
wish
.
But
Mr
.
Copperfield
was
teaching
me
—
—
’
(
‘
Much
he
knew
about
it
himself
!
’
)
said
Miss
Betsey
in
a
parenthesis
.
-
‘
And
I
hope
I
should
have
improved
,
being
very
anxious
to
learn
,
and
he
very
patient
to
teach
me
,
if
the
great
misfortune
of
his
death
’
—
my
mother
broke
down
again
here
,
and
could
get
no
farther
.
‘
Well
,
well
!
’
said
Miss
Betsey
.
-
‘
I
kept
my
housekeeping
-
book
regularly
,
and
balanced
it
with
Mr
.
Copperfield
every
night
,
’
cried
my
mother
in
another
burst
of
distress
,
and
breaking
down
again
.
‘
Well
,
well
!
’
said
Miss
Betsey
.
‘
Don
’
t
cry
any
more
.
’
-
‘
And
I
am
sure
we
never
had
a
word
of
difference
respecting
it
,
except
when
Mr
.
Copperfield
objected
to
my
threes
and
fives
being
too
much
like
each
other
,
or
to
my
putting
curly
tails
to
my
sevens
and
nines
,
’
resumed
my
mother
in
another
burst
,
and
breaking
down
again
.
‘
You
’
ll
make
yourself
ill
,
’
said
Miss
Betsey
,
‘
and
you
know
that
will
not
be
good
either
for
you
or
for
my
god
-
daughter
.
Come
!
You
mustn
’
t
do
it
!
’
This
argument
had
some
share
in
quieting
my
mother
,
though
her
increasing
indisposition
had
a
larger
one
.
There
was
an
interval
of
silence
,
only
broken
by
Miss
Betsey
’
s
occasionally
ejaculating
‘
Ha
!
’
as
she
sat
with
her
feet
upon
the
fender
.
