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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 175/761
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The
post
of
honour
and
the
post
of
shame
,
the
general
’
s
station
and
the
drummer
’
s
,
a
peer
’
s
statue
in
Westminster
Abbey
and
a
seaman
’
s
hammock
in
the
bosom
of
the
deep
,
the
mitre
and
the
workhouse
,
the
woolsack
and
the
gallows
,
the
throne
and
the
guillotine
—
the
travellers
to
all
are
on
the
great
high
road
,
but
it
has
wonderful
divergencies
,
and
only
Time
shall
show
us
whither
each
traveller
is
bound
.
On
a
wintry
afternoon
at
twilight
,
Mrs
Flintwinch
,
having
been
heavy
all
day
,
dreamed
this
dream
:
She
thought
she
was
in
the
kitchen
getting
the
kettle
ready
for
tea
,
and
was
warming
herself
with
her
feet
upon
the
fender
and
the
skirt
of
her
gown
tucked
up
,
before
the
collapsed
fire
in
the
middle
of
the
grate
,
bordered
on
either
hand
by
a
deep
cold
black
ravine
.
She
thought
that
as
she
sat
thus
,
musing
upon
the
question
whether
life
was
not
for
some
people
a
rather
dull
invention
,
she
was
frightened
by
a
sudden
noise
behind
her
.
She
thought
that
she
had
been
similarly
frightened
once
last
week
,
and
that
the
noise
was
of
a
mysterious
kind
—
a
sound
of
rustling
and
of
three
or
four
quick
beats
like
a
rapid
step
;
while
a
shock
or
tremble
was
communicated
to
her
heart
,
as
if
the
step
had
shaken
the
floor
,
or
even
as
if
she
had
been
touched
by
some
awful
hand
.
She
thought
that
this
revived
within
her
certain
old
fears
of
hers
that
the
house
was
haunted
;
and
that
she
flew
up
the
kitchen
stairs
without
knowing
how
she
got
up
,
to
be
nearer
company
.
Mistress
Affery
thought
that
on
reaching
the
hall
,
she
saw
the
door
of
her
liege
lord
’
s
office
standing
open
,
and
the
room
empty
.
That
she
went
to
the
ripped
-
up
window
in
the
little
room
by
the
street
door
to
connect
her
palpitating
heart
,
through
the
glass
,
with
living
things
beyond
and
outside
the
haunted
house
.
That
she
then
saw
,
on
the
wall
over
the
gateway
,
the
shadows
of
the
two
clever
ones
in
conversation
above
.
That
she
then
went
upstairs
with
her
shoes
in
her
hand
,
partly
to
be
near
the
clever
ones
as
a
match
for
most
ghosts
,
and
partly
to
hear
what
they
were
talking
about
.
‘
None
of
your
nonsense
with
me
,
’
said
Mr
Flintwinch
.
‘
I
won
’
t
take
it
from
you
.
’
Mrs
Flintwinch
dreamed
that
she
stood
behind
the
door
,
which
was
just
ajar
,
and
most
distinctly
heard
her
husband
say
these
bold
words
.
‘
Flintwinch
,
’
returned
Mrs
Clennam
,
in
her
usual
strong
low
voice
,
‘
there
is
a
demon
of
anger
in
you
.
Guard
against
it
.
’
‘
I
don
’
t
care
whether
there
’
s
one
or
a
dozen
,
’
said
Mr
Flintwinch
,
forcibly
suggesting
in
his
tone
that
the
higher
number
was
nearer
the
mark
.
‘
If
there
was
fifty
,
they
should
all
say
,
None
of
your
nonsense
with
me
,
I
won
’
t
take
it
from
you
—
I
’
d
make
‘
em
say
it
,
whether
they
liked
it
or
not
.
’
‘
What
have
I
done
,
you
wrathful
man
?
’
her
strong
voice
asked
.
