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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 57/247
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She
went
,
with
her
neat
figure
and
her
sober
womanly
step
,
down
the
dark
street
,
and
he
stood
looking
after
her
until
she
turned
into
one
of
the
small
houses
.
There
was
not
a
flutter
of
her
coarse
shawl
,
perhaps
,
but
had
its
interest
in
this
man
's
eyes
;
not
a
tone
of
her
voice
but
had
its
echo
in
his
innermost
heart
.
When
she
was
lost
to
his
view
,
he
pursued
his
homeward
way
,
glancing
up
sometimes
at
the
sky
,
where
the
clouds
were
sailing
fast
and
wildly
.
But
,
they
were
broken
now
,
and
the
rain
had
ceased
,
and
the
moon
shone
,
--
looking
down
the
high
chimneys
of
Coketown
on
the
deep
furnaces
below
,
and
casting
Titanic
shadows
of
the
steam-engines
at
rest
,
upon
the
walls
where
they
were
lodged
.
The
man
seemed
to
have
brightened
with
the
night
,
as
he
went
on
.
His
home
,
in
such
another
street
as
the
first
,
saving
that
it
was
narrower
,
was
over
a
little
shop
.
How
it
came
to
pass
that
any
people
found
it
worth
their
while
to
sell
or
buy
the
wretched
little
toys
,
mixed
up
in
its
window
with
cheap
newspapers
and
pork
(
there
was
a
leg
to
be
raffled
for
to-morrow-night
)
,
matters
not
here
.
He
took
his
end
of
candle
from
a
shelf
,
lighted
it
at
another
end
of
candle
on
the
counter
,
without
disturbing
the
mistress
of
the
shop
who
was
asleep
in
her
little
room
,
and
went
upstairs
into
his
lodging
.
It
was
a
room
,
not
unacquainted
with
the
black
ladder
under
various
tenants
;
but
as
neat
,
at
present
,
as
such
a
room
could
be
.
A
few
books
and
writings
were
on
an
old
bureau
in
a
corner
,
the
furniture
was
decent
and
sufficient
,
and
,
though
the
atmosphere
was
tainted
,
the
room
was
clean
.
Going
to
the
hearth
to
set
the
candle
down
upon
a
round
three-legged
table
standing
there
,
he
stumbled
against
something
.
As
he
recoiled
,
looking
down
at
it
,
it
raised
itself
up
into
the
form
of
a
woman
in
a
sitting
attitude
.
'
Heaven
's
mercy
,
woman
!
'
he
cried
,
falling
farther
off
from
the
figure
.
'
Hast
thou
come
back
again
!
'
Such
a
woman
!
A
disabled
,
drunken
creature
,
barely
able
to
preserve
her
sitting
posture
by
steadying
herself
with
one
begrimed
hand
on
the
floor
,
while
the
other
was
so
purposeless
in
trying
to
push
away
her
tangled
hair
from
her
face
,
that
it
only
blinded
her
the
more
with
the
dirt
upon
it
.
A
creature
so
foul
to
look
at
,
in
her
tatters
,
stains
and
splashes
,
but
so
much
fouler
than
that
in
her
moral
infamy
,
that
it
was
a
shameful
thing
even
to
see
her
.
After
an
impatient
oath
or
two
,
and
some
stupid
clawing
of
herself
with
the
hand
not
necessary
to
her
support
,
she
got
her
hair
away
from
her
eyes
sufficiently
to
obtain
a
sight
of
him
.
Then
she
sat
swaying
her
body
to
and
fro
,
and
making
gestures
with
her
unnerved
arm
,
which
seemed
intended
as
the
accompaniment
to
a
fit
of
laughter
,
though
her
face
was
stolid
and
drowsy
.
