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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
We
have
often
seen
each
other
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
recognising
the
sexton
,
or
the
beadle
,
or
the
verger
,
or
whatever
he
was
,
‘
when
I
have
been
at
church
here
.
’
‘
More
than
that
,
we
’
ve
got
your
birth
in
our
Register
,
you
know
;
you
’
re
one
of
our
curiosities
.
’
‘
Indeed
!
’
said
Little
Dorrit
.
‘
To
be
sure
.
As
the
child
of
the
—
by
-
the
-
bye
,
how
did
you
get
out
so
early
?
’
‘
We
were
shut
out
last
night
,
and
are
waiting
to
get
in
.
’
‘
You
don
’
t
mean
it
?
And
there
’
s
another
hour
good
yet
!
Come
into
the
vestry
.
You
’
ll
find
a
fire
in
the
vestry
,
on
account
of
the
painters
.
I
’
m
waiting
for
the
painters
,
or
I
shouldn
’
t
be
here
,
you
may
depend
upon
it
.
One
of
our
curiosities
mustn
’
t
be
cold
when
we
have
it
in
our
power
to
warm
her
up
comfortable
.
Come
along
.
’
He
was
a
very
good
old
fellow
,
in
his
familiar
way
;
and
having
stirred
the
vestry
fire
,
he
looked
round
the
shelves
of
registers
for
a
particular
volume
.
‘
Here
you
are
,
you
see
,
’
he
said
,
taking
it
down
and
turning
the
leaves
.
‘
Here
you
’
ll
find
yourself
,
as
large
as
life
.
Amy
,
daughter
of
William
and
Fanny
Dorrit
.
Born
,
Marshalsea
Prison
,
Parish
of
St
George
.
And
we
tell
people
that
you
have
lived
there
,
without
so
much
as
a
day
’
s
or
a
night
’
s
absence
,
ever
since
.
Is
it
true
?
’
‘
Quite
true
,
till
last
night
.
’
‘
Lord
!
’
But
his
surveying
her
with
an
admiring
gaze
suggested
Something
else
to
him
,
to
wit
:
‘
I
am
sorry
to
see
,
though
,
that
you
are
faint
and
tired
.
Stay
a
bit
.
I
’
ll
get
some
cushions
out
of
the
church
,
and
you
and
your
friend
shall
lie
down
before
the
fire
.
Don
’
t
be
afraid
of
not
going
in
to
join
your
father
when
the
gate
opens
.
I
’
ll
call
you
.
’
