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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 172/761
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‘
I
must
thank
you
first
;
let
me
speak
to
you
as
if
I
really
were
a
child
.
’
‘
You
can
’
t
do
it
,
’
said
the
woman
.
‘
You
are
kind
and
innocent
;
but
you
can
’
t
look
at
me
out
of
a
child
’
s
eyes
.
I
never
should
have
touched
you
,
but
I
thought
that
you
were
a
child
.
’
And
with
a
strange
,
wild
cry
,
she
went
away
.
No
day
yet
in
the
sky
,
but
there
was
day
in
the
resounding
stones
of
the
streets
;
in
the
waggons
,
carts
,
and
coaches
;
in
the
workers
going
to
various
occupations
;
in
the
opening
of
early
shops
;
in
the
traffic
at
markets
;
in
the
stir
of
the
riverside
.
There
was
coming
day
in
the
flaring
lights
,
with
a
feebler
colour
in
them
than
they
would
have
had
at
another
time
;
coming
day
in
the
increased
sharpness
of
the
air
,
and
the
ghastly
dying
of
the
night
.
They
went
back
again
to
the
gate
,
intending
to
wait
there
now
until
it
should
be
opened
;
but
the
air
was
so
raw
and
cold
that
Little
Dorrit
,
leading
Maggy
about
in
her
sleep
,
kept
in
motion
.
Going
round
by
the
Church
,
she
saw
lights
there
,
and
the
door
open
;
and
went
up
the
steps
and
looked
in
.
‘
Who
’
s
that
?
’
cried
a
stout
old
man
,
who
was
putting
on
a
nightcap
as
if
he
were
going
to
bed
in
a
vault
.
‘
It
’
s
no
one
particular
,
sir
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
.
‘
Stop
!
’
cried
the
man
.
‘
Let
’
s
have
a
look
at
you
!
’
This
caused
her
to
turn
back
again
in
the
act
of
going
out
,
and
to
present
herself
and
her
charge
before
him
.
‘
I
thought
so
!
’
said
he
.
‘
I
know
you
.
’
