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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 156/761
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’
The
speaker
having
folded
his
arms
,
and
set
in
comfortably
to
address
his
depreciation
of
them
Mails
to
any
of
the
bystanders
who
would
listen
,
several
voices
,
out
of
pure
sympathy
with
the
sufferer
,
confirmed
him
;
one
voice
saying
to
Clennam
,
‘
They
’
re
a
public
nuisance
,
them
Mails
,
sir
;
’
another
,
‘
I
see
one
on
‘
em
pull
up
within
half
a
inch
of
a
boy
,
last
night
;
’
another
,
‘
I
see
one
on
‘
em
go
over
a
cat
,
sir
—
and
it
might
have
been
your
own
mother
;
’
and
all
representing
,
by
implication
,
that
if
he
happened
to
possess
any
public
influence
,
he
could
not
use
it
better
than
against
them
Mails
.
‘
Why
,
a
native
Englishman
is
put
to
it
every
night
of
his
life
,
to
save
his
life
from
them
Mails
,
’
argued
the
first
old
man
;
‘
and
he
knows
when
they
’
re
a
coming
round
the
corner
,
to
tear
him
limb
from
limb
.
What
can
you
expect
from
a
poor
foreigner
who
don
’
t
know
nothing
about
‘
em
!
’
‘
Is
this
a
foreigner
?
’
said
Clennam
,
leaning
forward
to
look
.
In
the
midst
of
such
replies
as
‘
Frenchman
,
sir
,
’
‘
Porteghee
,
sir
,
’
‘
Dutchman
,
sir
,
’
‘
Prooshan
,
sir
,
’
and
other
conflicting
testimony
,
he
now
heard
a
feeble
voice
asking
,
both
in
Italian
and
in
French
,
for
water
.
A
general
remark
going
round
,
in
reply
,
of
‘
Ah
,
poor
fellow
,
he
says
he
’
ll
never
get
over
it
;
and
no
wonder
!
’
Clennam
begged
to
be
allowed
to
pass
,
as
he
understood
the
poor
creature
.
He
was
immediately
handed
to
the
front
,
to
speak
to
him
.
‘
First
,
he
wants
some
water
,
’
said
he
,
looking
round
.
(
A
dozen
good
fellows
dispersed
to
get
it
.
)
‘
Are
you
badly
hurt
,
my
friend
?
’
he
asked
the
man
on
the
litter
,
in
Italian
.
‘
Yes
,
sir
;
yes
,
yes
,
yes
.
It
’
s
my
leg
,
it
’
s
my
leg
.
But
it
pleases
me
to
hear
the
old
music
,
though
I
am
very
bad
.
’
‘
You
are
a
traveller
!
Stay
!
See
,
the
water
!
Let
me
give
you
some
.
’
They
had
rested
the
litter
on
a
pile
of
paving
stones
.
It
was
at
a
convenient
height
from
the
ground
,
and
by
stooping
he
could
lightly
raise
the
head
with
one
hand
and
hold
the
glass
to
his
lips
with
the
other
.
A
little
,
muscular
,
brown
man
,
with
black
hair
and
white
teeth
.
A
lively
face
,
apparently
.
Earrings
in
his
ears
.
‘
That
’
s
well
.
You
are
a
traveller
?
’
‘
Surely
,
sir
.
’
