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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 49/435
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"
Do
you
know
what
I
touch
here
?
"
she
said
,
laying
her
hands
,
one
upon
the
other
,
on
her
left
side
.
"
Yes
,
ma
’
am
.
"
(
It
made
me
think
of
the
young
man
.
)
"
What
do
I
touch
?
"
"
Your
heart
.
"
"
Broken
!
"
She
uttered
the
word
with
an
eager
look
,
and
with
strong
emphasis
,
and
with
a
weird
smile
that
had
a
kind
of
boast
in
it
.
Afterwards
she
kept
her
hands
there
for
a
little
while
,
and
slowly
took
them
away
as
if
they
were
heavy
.
"
I
am
tired
,
"
said
Miss
Havisham
.
"
I
want
diversion
,
and
I
have
done
with
men
and
women
.
Play
.
"
I
think
it
will
be
conceded
by
my
most
disputatious
reader
,
that
she
could
hardly
have
directed
an
unfortunate
boy
to
do
anything
in
the
wide
world
more
difficult
to
be
done
under
the
circumstances
.
"
I
sometimes
have
sick
fancies
,
"
she
went
on
,
"
and
I
have
a
sick
fancy
that
I
want
to
see
some
play
.
There
,
there
!
"
with
an
impatient
movement
of
the
fingers
of
her
right
hand
;
"
play
,
play
,
play
!
"
For
a
moment
,
with
the
fear
of
my
sister
’
s
working
me
before
my
eyes
,
I
had
a
desperate
idea
of
starting
round
the
room
in
the
assumed
character
of
Mr
.
Pumblechook
’
s
chaise
-
cart
.
But
I
felt
myself
so
unequal
to
the
performance
that
I
gave
it
up
,
and
stood
looking
at
Miss
Havisham
in
what
I
suppose
she
took
for
a
dogged
manner
,
inasmuch
as
she
said
,
when
we
had
taken
a
good
look
at
each
other
—
