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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 143/761
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‘
I
have
heard
that
you
were
kind
enough
on
one
of
those
occasions
,
’
said
Arthur
,
catching
at
the
opportunity
as
it
drifted
past
him
,
‘
to
mention
Little
Dorrit
to
my
mother
.
’
‘
Little
—
?
Dorrit
?
That
’
s
the
seamstress
who
was
mentioned
to
me
by
a
small
tenant
of
mine
?
Yes
,
yes
.
Dorrit
?
That
’
s
the
name
.
Ah
,
yes
,
yes
!
You
call
her
Little
Dorrit
?
’
No
road
in
that
direction
.
Nothing
came
of
the
cross
-
cut
.
It
led
no
further
.
‘
My
daughter
Flora
,
’
said
Mr
Casby
,
‘
as
you
may
have
heard
probably
,
Mr
Clennam
,
was
married
and
established
in
life
,
several
years
ago
.
She
had
the
misfortune
to
lose
her
husband
when
she
had
been
married
a
few
months
.
She
resides
with
me
again
.
She
will
be
glad
to
see
you
,
if
you
will
permit
me
to
let
her
know
that
you
are
here
.
’
‘
By
all
means
,
’
returned
Clennam
.
‘
I
should
have
preferred
the
request
,
if
your
kindness
had
not
anticipated
me
.
’
Upon
this
Mr
Casby
rose
up
in
his
list
shoes
,
and
with
a
slow
,
heavy
step
(
he
was
of
an
elephantine
build
)
,
made
for
the
door
.
He
had
a
long
wide
-
skirted
bottle
-
green
coat
on
,
and
a
bottle
-
green
pair
of
trousers
,
and
a
bottle
-
green
waistcoat
.
The
Patriarchs
were
not
dressed
in
bottle
-
green
broadcloth
,
and
yet
his
clothes
looked
patriarchal
.
He
had
scarcely
left
the
room
,
and
allowed
the
ticking
to
become
audible
again
,
when
a
quick
hand
turned
a
latchkey
in
the
house
-
door
,
opened
it
,
and
shut
it
.
Immediately
afterwards
,
a
quick
and
eager
short
dark
man
came
into
the
room
with
so
much
way
upon
him
that
he
was
within
a
foot
of
Clennam
before
he
could
stop
.
‘
Halloa
!
’
he
said
.
Clennam
saw
no
reason
why
he
should
not
say
‘
Halloa
!
’
too
.
