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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 101/761
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‘
Think
of
that
,
Maggy
?
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
taking
her
two
large
hands
and
clapping
them
together
.
‘
A
gentleman
from
thousands
of
miles
away
,
wanting
to
know
your
history
!
’
‘
My
history
?
’
cried
Maggy
.
‘
Little
mother
.
’
‘
She
means
me
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
rather
confused
;
‘
she
is
very
much
attached
to
me
.
Her
old
grandmother
was
not
so
kind
to
her
as
she
should
have
been
;
was
she
,
Maggy
?
’
Maggy
shook
her
head
,
made
a
drinking
vessel
of
her
clenched
left
hand
,
drank
out
of
it
,
and
said
,
‘
Gin
.
’
Then
beat
an
imaginary
child
,
and
said
,
‘
Broom
-
handles
and
pokers
.
’
‘
When
Maggy
was
ten
years
old
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
watching
her
face
while
she
spoke
,
‘
she
had
a
bad
fever
,
sir
,
and
she
has
never
grown
any
older
ever
since
.
’
‘
Ten
years
old
,
’
said
Maggy
,
nodding
her
head
.
‘
But
what
a
nice
hospital
!
So
comfortable
,
wasn
’
t
it
?
Oh
so
nice
it
was
.
Such
a
Ev
’
nly
place
!
’
‘
She
had
never
been
at
peace
before
,
sir
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
turning
towards
Arthur
for
an
instant
and
speaking
low
,
‘
and
she
always
runs
off
upon
that
.
’
‘
Such
beds
there
is
there
!
’
cried
Maggy
.
‘
Such
lemonades
!
Such
oranges
!
Such
d
’
licious
broth
and
wine
!
Such
Chicking
!
Oh
,
AIN
’
T
it
a
delightful
place
to
go
and
stop
at
!
’
‘
So
Maggy
stopped
there
as
long
as
she
could
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
in
her
former
tone
of
telling
a
child
’
s
story
;
the
tone
designed
for
Maggy
’
s
ear
,
‘
and
at
last
,
when
she
could
stop
there
no
longer
,
she
came
out
.
Then
,
because
she
was
never
to
be
more
than
ten
years
old
,
however
long
she
lived
—
’
