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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 149/761
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‘
One
last
remark
,
’
proceeded
Flora
,
rejecting
commonplace
life
with
a
wave
of
her
hand
,
‘
I
wish
to
make
,
one
last
explanation
I
wish
to
offer
,
there
was
a
time
ere
Mr
F
.
first
paid
attentions
incapable
of
being
mistaken
,
but
that
is
past
and
was
not
to
be
,
dear
Mr
Clennam
you
no
longer
wear
a
golden
chain
you
are
free
I
trust
you
may
be
happy
,
here
is
Papa
who
is
always
tiresome
and
putting
in
his
nose
everywhere
where
he
is
not
wanted
.
’
With
these
words
,
and
with
a
hasty
gesture
fraught
with
timid
caution
—
such
a
gesture
had
Clennam
’
s
eyes
been
familiar
with
in
the
old
time
—
poor
Flora
left
herself
at
eighteen
years
of
age
,
a
long
long
way
behind
again
;
and
came
to
a
full
stop
at
last
.
Or
rather
,
she
left
about
half
of
herself
at
eighteen
years
of
age
behind
,
and
grafted
the
rest
on
to
the
relict
of
the
late
Mr
F
.
;
thus
making
a
moral
mermaid
of
herself
,
which
her
once
boy
-
lover
contemplated
with
feelings
wherein
his
sense
of
the
sorrowful
and
his
sense
of
the
comical
were
curiously
blended
.
For
example
.
As
if
there
were
a
secret
understanding
between
herself
and
Clennam
of
the
most
thrilling
nature
;
as
if
the
first
of
a
train
of
post
-
chaises
and
four
,
extending
all
the
way
to
Scotland
,
were
at
that
moment
round
the
corner
;
and
as
if
she
couldn
’
t
(
and
wouldn
’
t
)
have
walked
into
the
Parish
Church
with
him
,
under
the
shade
of
the
family
umbrella
,
with
the
Patriarchal
blessing
on
her
head
,
and
the
perfect
concurrence
of
all
mankind
;
Flora
comforted
her
soul
with
agonies
of
mysterious
signalling
,
expressing
dread
of
discovery
.
With
the
sensation
of
becoming
more
and
more
light
-
headed
every
minute
,
Clennam
saw
the
relict
of
the
late
Mr
F
.
enjoying
herself
in
the
most
wonderful
manner
,
by
putting
herself
and
him
in
their
old
places
,
and
going
through
all
the
old
performances
—
now
,
when
the
stage
was
dusty
,
when
the
scenery
was
faded
,
when
the
youthful
actors
were
dead
,
when
the
orchestra
was
empty
,
when
the
lights
were
out
.
And
still
,
through
all
this
grotesque
revival
of
what
he
remembered
as
having
once
been
prettily
natural
to
her
,
he
could
not
but
feel
that
it
revived
at
sight
of
him
,
and
that
there
was
a
tender
memory
in
it
.
The
Patriarch
insisted
on
his
staying
to
dinner
,
and
Flora
signalled
‘
Yes
!
’
Clennam
so
wished
he
could
have
done
more
than
stay
to
dinner
—
so
heartily
wished
he
could
have
found
the
Flora
that
had
been
,
or
that
never
had
been
—
that
he
thought
the
least
atonement
he
could
make
for
the
disappointment
he
almost
felt
ashamed
of
,
was
to
give
himself
up
to
the
family
desire
.
Therefore
,
he
stayed
to
dinner
.
Pancks
dined
with
them
.
Pancks
steamed
out
of
his
little
dock
at
a
quarter
before
six
,
and
bore
straight
down
for
the
Patriarch
,
who
happened
to
be
then
driving
,
in
an
inane
manner
,
through
a
stagnant
account
of
Bleeding
Heart
Yard
.
Pancks
instantly
made
fast
to
him
and
hauled
him
out
.
‘
Bleeding
Heart
Yard
?
’
said
Pancks
,
with
a
puff
and
a
snort
.
‘
It
’
s
a
troublesome
property
.
Don
’
t
pay
you
badly
,
but
rents
are
very
hard
to
get
there
.
You
have
more
trouble
with
that
one
place
than
with
all
the
places
belonging
to
you
.
’
Just
as
the
big
ship
in
tow
gets
the
credit
,
with
most
spectators
,
of
being
the
powerful
object
,
so
the
Patriarch
usually
seemed
to
have
said
himself
whatever
Pancks
said
for
him
.
‘
Indeed
?
’
returned
Clennam
,
upon
whom
this
impression
was
so
efficiently
made
by
a
mere
gleam
of
the
polished
head
that
he
spoke
the
ship
instead
of
the
Tug
.
‘
The
people
are
so
poor
there
?
’
‘
You
can
’
t
say
,
you
know
,
’
snorted
Pancks
,
taking
one
of
his
dirty
hands
out
of
his
rusty
iron
-
grey
pockets
to
bite
his
nails
,
if
he
could
find
any
,
and
turning
his
beads
of
eyes
upon
his
employer
,
‘
whether
they
’
re
poor
or
not
.
They
say
they
are
,
but
they
all
say
that
.
