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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 349/435
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I
thought
how
the
same
feeling
had
come
back
when
I
saw
a
face
looking
at
me
,
and
a
hand
waving
to
me
from
a
stage
-
coach
window
;
and
how
it
had
come
back
again
and
had
flashed
about
me
like
lightning
,
when
I
had
passed
in
a
carriage
—
not
alone
—
through
a
sudden
glare
of
light
in
a
dark
street
.
I
thought
how
one
link
of
association
had
helped
that
identification
in
the
theatre
,
and
how
such
a
link
,
wanting
before
,
had
been
riveted
for
me
now
,
when
I
had
passed
by
a
chance
swift
from
Estella
’
s
name
to
the
fingers
with
their
knitting
action
,
and
the
attentive
eyes
.
And
I
felt
absolutely
certain
that
this
woman
was
Estella
’
s
mother
.
Mr
.
Jaggers
had
seen
me
with
Estella
,
and
was
not
likely
to
have
missed
the
sentiments
I
had
been
at
no
pains
to
conceal
.
He
nodded
when
I
said
the
subject
was
painful
to
me
,
clapped
me
on
the
back
,
put
round
the
wine
again
,
and
went
on
with
his
dinner
.
Only
twice
more
did
the
housekeeper
reappear
,
and
then
her
stay
in
the
room
was
very
short
,
and
Mr
.
Jaggers
was
sharp
with
her
.
But
her
hands
were
Estella
’
s
hands
,
and
her
eyes
were
Estella
’
s
eyes
,
and
if
she
had
reappeared
a
hundred
times
I
could
have
been
neither
more
sure
nor
less
sure
that
my
conviction
was
the
truth
.
It
was
a
dull
evening
,
for
Wemmick
drew
his
wine
,
when
it
came
round
,
quite
as
a
matter
of
business
—
just
as
he
might
have
drawn
his
salary
when
that
came
round
—
and
with
his
eyes
on
his
chief
,
sat
in
a
state
of
perpetual
readiness
for
cross
-
examination
.
As
to
the
quantity
of
wine
,
his
post
-
office
was
as
indifferent
and
ready
as
any
other
post
-
office
for
its
quantity
of
letters
.
From
my
point
of
view
,
he
was
the
wrong
twin
all
the
time
,
and
only
externally
like
the
Wemmick
of
Walworth
.
We
took
our
leave
early
,
and
left
together
.
Even
when
we
were
groping
among
Mr
.
Jaggers
’
s
stock
of
boots
for
our
hats
,
I
felt
that
the
right
twin
was
on
his
way
back
;
and
we
had
not
gone
half
a
dozen
yards
down
Gerrard
Street
in
the
Walworth
direction
,
before
I
found
that
I
was
walking
arm
in
arm
with
the
right
twin
,
and
that
the
wrong
twin
had
evaporated
into
the
evening
air
.
"
Well
!
"
said
Wemmick
,
"
that
’
s
over
!
He
’
s
a
wonderful
man
,
without
his
living
likeness
;
but
I
feel
that
I
have
to
screw
myself
up
when
I
dine
with
him
—
and
I
dine
more
comfortably
unscrewed
.
"
I
felt
that
this
was
a
good
statement
of
the
case
,
and
told
him
so
.
"
Wouldn
’
t
say
it
to
anybody
but
yourself
,
"
he
answered
.
"
I
know
that
what
is
said
between
you
and
me
goes
no
further
.
"
I
asked
him
if
he
had
ever
seen
Miss
Havisham
’
s
adopted
daughter
,
Mrs
.
Bentley
Drummle
.
He
said
no
.
To
avoid
being
too
abrupt
,
I
then
spoke
of
the
Aged
and
of
Miss
Skiffins
.
He
looked
rather
sly
when
I
mentioned
Miss
Skiffins
,
and
stopped
in
the
street
to
blow
his
nose
,
with
a
roll
of
the
head
,
and
a
flourish
not
quite
free
from
latent
boastfulness
.
