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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 130/761
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‘
Then
you
were
—
’
faltered
John
Baptist
.
‘
Not
shaved
?
No
.
See
here
!
’
cried
Lagnier
,
giving
his
head
a
twirl
;
‘
as
tight
on
as
your
own
.
’
John
Baptist
,
with
a
slight
shiver
,
looked
all
round
the
room
as
if
to
recall
where
he
was
.
His
patron
took
that
opportunity
of
turning
the
key
in
the
door
,
and
then
sat
down
upon
his
bed
.
‘
Look
!
’
he
said
,
holding
up
his
shoes
and
gaiters
.
‘
That
’
s
a
poor
trim
for
a
gentleman
,
you
’
ll
say
.
No
matter
,
you
shall
see
how
soon
I
’
ll
mend
it
.
Come
and
sit
down
.
Take
your
old
place
!
’
John
Baptist
,
looking
anything
but
reassured
,
sat
down
on
the
floor
at
the
bedside
,
keeping
his
eyes
upon
his
patron
all
the
time
.
‘
That
’
s
well
!
’
cried
Lagnier
.
‘
Now
we
might
be
in
the
old
infernal
hole
again
,
hey
?
How
long
have
you
been
out
?
’
‘
Two
days
after
you
,
my
master
.
’
‘
How
do
you
come
here
?
’
‘
I
was
cautioned
not
to
stay
there
,
and
so
I
left
the
town
at
once
,
and
since
then
I
have
changed
about
.
I
have
been
doing
odds
and
ends
at
Avignon
,
at
Pont
Esprit
,
at
Lyons
;
upon
the
Rhone
,
upon
the
Saone
.
’
As
he
spoke
,
he
rapidly
mapped
the
places
out
with
his
sunburnt
hand
upon
the
floor
.
