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- Чарльз Диккенс
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'
Beg
your
pardon
,
sir
.
You
're
wanted
,
sir
,
if
you
please
.
'
A
general
recollection
that
this
was
the
kind
of
thing
the
Police
said
to
the
swell
mob
,
caused
Mr.
Harthouse
to
ask
the
waiter
in
return
,
with
bristling
indignation
,
what
the
Devil
he
meant
by
'
wanted
'
?
'
Beg
your
pardon
,
sir
.
Young
lady
outside
,
sir
,
wishes
to
see
you
.
'
'
Outside
?
Where
?
'
'
Outside
this
door
,
sir
.
'
Giving
the
waiter
to
the
personage
before
mentioned
,
as
a
block-head
duly
qualified
for
that
consignment
,
Mr.
Harthouse
hurried
into
the
gallery
.
A
young
woman
whom
he
had
never
seen
stood
there
.
Plainly
dressed
,
very
quiet
,
very
pretty
.
As
he
conducted
her
into
the
room
and
placed
a
chair
for
her
,
he
observed
,
by
the
light
of
the
candles
,
that
she
was
even
prettier
than
he
had
at
first
believed
.
Her
face
was
innocent
and
youthful
,
and
its
expression
remarkably
pleasant
.
She
was
not
afraid
of
him
,
or
in
any
way
disconcerted
;
she
seemed
to
have
her
mind
entirely
preoccupied
with
the
occasion
of
her
visit
,
and
to
have
substituted
that
consideration
for
herself
.
'
I
speak
to
Mr.
Harthouse
?
'
she
said
,
when
they
were
alone
.
'
To
Mr.
Harthouse
.
'
He
added
in
his
mind
,
'
And
you
speak
to
him
with
the
most
confiding
eyes
I
ever
saw
,
and
the
most
earnest
voice
(
though
so
quiet
)
I
ever
heard
.
'
'
If
I
do
not
understand
--
and
I
do
not
,
sir
'
--
said
Sissy
,
'
what
your
honour
as
a
gentleman
binds
you
to
,
in
other
matters
:
'
the
blood
really
rose
in
his
face
as
she
began
in
these
words
:
'
I
am
sure
I
may
rely
upon
it
to
keep
my
visit
secret
,
and
to
keep
secret
what
I
am
going
to
say
.
I
will
rely
upon
it
,
if
you
will
tell
me
I
may
so
far
trust
--
'
