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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 123/761
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He
glanced
here
,
and
he
glanced
there
,
sullenly
but
shrinkingly
;
and
sometimes
stopped
and
turned
about
,
and
looked
all
round
him
.
Then
he
limped
on
again
,
toiling
and
muttering
.
‘
To
the
devil
with
this
plain
that
has
no
end
!
To
the
devil
with
these
stones
that
cut
like
knives
!
To
the
devil
with
this
dismal
darkness
,
wrapping
itself
about
one
with
a
chill
!
I
hate
you
!
’
And
he
would
have
visited
his
hatred
upon
it
all
with
the
scowl
he
threw
about
him
,
if
he
could
.
He
trudged
a
little
further
;
and
looking
into
the
distance
before
him
,
stopped
again
.
‘
I
,
hungry
,
thirsty
,
weary
.
You
,
imbeciles
,
where
the
lights
are
yonder
,
eating
and
drinking
,
and
warming
yourselves
at
fires
!
I
wish
I
had
the
sacking
of
your
town
;
I
would
repay
you
,
my
children
!
’
But
the
teeth
he
set
at
the
town
,
and
the
hand
he
shook
at
the
town
,
brought
the
town
no
nearer
;
and
the
man
was
yet
hungrier
,
and
thirstier
,
and
wearier
,
when
his
feet
were
on
its
jagged
pavement
,
and
he
stood
looking
about
him
.
There
was
the
hotel
with
its
gateway
,
and
its
savoury
smell
of
cooking
;
there
was
the
cafe
with
its
bright
windows
,
and
its
rattling
of
dominoes
;
there
was
the
dyer
’
s
with
its
strips
of
red
cloth
on
the
doorposts
;
there
was
the
silversmith
’
s
with
its
earrings
,
and
its
offerings
for
altars
;
there
was
the
tobacco
dealer
’
s
with
its
lively
group
of
soldier
customers
coming
out
pipe
in
mouth
;
there
were
the
bad
odours
of
the
town
,
and
the
rain
and
the
refuse
in
the
kennels
,
and
the
faint
lamps
slung
across
the
road
,
and
the
huge
Diligence
,
and
its
mountain
of
luggage
,
and
its
six
grey
horses
with
their
tails
tied
up
,
getting
under
weigh
at
the
coach
office
.
But
no
small
cabaret
for
a
straitened
traveller
being
within
sight
,
he
had
to
seek
one
round
the
dark
corner
,
where
the
cabbage
leaves
lay
thickest
,
trodden
about
the
public
cistern
at
which
women
had
not
yet
left
off
drawing
water
.
There
,
in
the
back
street
he
found
one
,
the
Break
of
Day
.
The
curtained
windows
clouded
the
Break
of
Day
,
but
it
seemed
light
and
warm
,
and
it
announced
in
legible
inscriptions
with
appropriate
pictorial
embellishment
of
billiard
cue
and
ball
,
that
at
the
Break
of
Day
one
could
play
billiards
;
that
there
one
could
find
meat
,
drink
,
and
lodgings
,
whether
one
came
on
horseback
,
or
came
on
foot
;
and
that
it
kept
good
wines
,
liqueurs
,
and
brandy
.
The
man
turned
the
handle
of
the
Break
of
Day
door
,
and
limped
in
.
He
touched
his
discoloured
slouched
hat
,
as
he
came
in
at
the
door
,
to
a
few
men
who
occupied
the
room
.
Two
were
playing
dominoes
at
one
of
the
little
tables
;
three
or
four
were
seated
round
the
stove
,
conversing
as
they
smoked
;
the
billiard
-
table
in
the
centre
was
left
alone
for
the
time
;
the
landlady
of
the
Daybreak
sat
behind
her
little
counter
among
her
cloudy
bottles
of
syrups
,
baskets
of
cakes
,
and
leaden
drainage
for
glasses
,
working
at
her
needle
.
Making
his
way
to
an
empty
little
table
in
a
corner
of
the
room
behind
the
stove
,
he
put
down
his
knapsack
and
his
cloak
upon
the
ground
.
As
he
raised
his
head
from
stooping
to
do
so
,
he
found
the
landlady
beside
him
.
‘
One
can
lodge
here
to
-
night
,
madame
?
’
