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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 183/761
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Mistress
Affery
looked
on
at
Little
Dorrit
taking
off
her
homely
bonnet
in
the
hall
,
and
at
Mr
Flintwinch
scraping
his
jaws
and
contemplating
her
in
silence
,
as
expecting
some
wonderful
consequence
to
ensue
which
would
frighten
her
out
of
her
five
wits
or
blow
them
all
three
to
pieces
.
After
tea
there
came
another
knock
at
the
door
,
announcing
Arthur
.
Mistress
Affery
went
down
to
let
him
in
,
and
he
said
on
entering
,
‘
Affery
,
I
am
glad
it
’
s
you
.
I
want
to
ask
you
a
question
.
’
Affery
immediately
replied
,
‘
For
goodness
sake
don
’
t
ask
me
nothing
,
Arthur
!
I
am
frightened
out
of
one
half
of
my
life
,
and
dreamed
out
of
the
other
.
Don
’
t
ask
me
nothing
!
I
don
’
t
know
which
is
which
,
or
what
is
what
!
’
—
and
immediately
started
away
from
him
,
and
came
near
him
no
more
.
Mistress
Affery
having
no
taste
for
reading
,
and
no
sufficient
light
for
needlework
in
the
subdued
room
,
supposing
her
to
have
the
inclination
,
now
sat
every
night
in
the
dimness
from
which
she
had
momentarily
emerged
on
the
evening
of
Arthur
Clennam
’
s
return
,
occupied
with
crowds
of
wild
speculations
and
suspicions
respecting
her
mistress
and
her
husband
and
the
noises
in
the
house
.
When
the
ferocious
devotional
exercises
were
engaged
in
,
these
speculations
would
distract
Mistress
Affery
’
s
eyes
towards
the
door
,
as
if
she
expected
some
dark
form
to
appear
at
those
propitious
moments
,
and
make
the
party
one
too
many
Otherwise
,
Affery
never
said
or
did
anything
to
attract
the
attention
of
the
two
clever
ones
towards
her
in
any
marked
degree
,
except
on
certain
occasions
,
generally
at
about
the
quiet
hour
towards
bed
-
time
,
when
she
would
suddenly
dart
out
of
her
dim
corner
,
and
whisper
with
a
face
of
terror
to
Mr
Flintwinch
,
reading
the
paper
near
Mrs
Clennam
’
s
little
table
:
‘
There
,
Jeremiah
!
Now
!
What
’
s
that
noise
?
’
Then
the
noise
,
if
there
were
any
,
would
have
ceased
,
and
Mr
Flintwinch
would
snarl
,
turning
upon
her
as
if
she
had
cut
him
down
that
moment
against
his
will
,
‘
Affery
,
old
woman
,
you
shall
have
a
dose
,
old
woman
,
such
a
dose
!
You
have
been
dreaming
again
!
’
The
time
being
come
for
the
renewal
of
his
acquaintance
with
the
Meagles
family
,
Clennam
,
pursuant
to
contract
made
between
himself
and
Mr
Meagles
within
the
precincts
of
Bleeding
Heart
Yard
,
turned
his
face
on
a
certain
Saturday
towards
Twickenham
,
where
Mr
Meagles
had
a
cottage
-
residence
of
his
own
.
The
weather
being
fine
and
dry
,
and
any
English
road
abounding
in
interest
for
him
who
had
been
so
long
away
,
he
sent
his
valise
on
by
the
coach
,
and
set
out
to
walk
.
A
walk
was
in
itself
a
new
enjoyment
to
him
,
and
one
that
had
rarely
diversified
his
life
afar
off
.
He
went
by
Fulham
and
Putney
,
for
the
pleasure
of
strolling
over
the
heath
.
It
was
bright
and
shining
there
;
and
when
he
found
himself
so
far
on
his
road
to
Twickenham
,
he
found
himself
a
long
way
on
his
road
to
a
number
of
airier
and
less
substantial
destinations
.
They
had
risen
before
him
fast
,
in
the
healthful
exercise
and
the
pleasant
road
.
It
is
not
easy
to
walk
alone
in
the
country
without
musing
upon
something
.
And
he
had
plenty
of
unsettled
subjects
to
meditate
upon
,
though
he
had
been
walking
to
the
Land
’
s
End
.
First
,
there
was
the
subject
seldom
absent
from
his
mind
,
the
question
,
what
he
was
to
do
henceforth
in
life
;
to
what
occupation
he
should
devote
himself
,
and
in
what
direction
he
had
best
seek
it
.
He
was
far
from
rich
,
and
every
day
of
indecision
and
inaction
made
his
inheritance
a
source
of
greater
anxiety
to
him
.
As
often
as
he
began
to
consider
how
to
increase
this
inheritance
,
or
to
lay
it
by
,
so
often
his
misgiving
that
there
was
some
one
with
an
unsatisfied
claim
upon
his
justice
,
returned
;
and
that
alone
was
a
subject
to
outlast
the
longest
walk
.
Again
,
there
was
the
subject
of
his
relations
with
his
mother
,
which
were
now
upon
an
equable
and
peaceful
but
never
confidential
footing
,
and
whom
he
saw
several
times
a
week
.
Little
Dorrit
was
a
leading
and
a
constant
subject
:
for
the
circumstances
of
his
life
,
united
to
those
of
her
own
story
,
presented
the
little
creature
to
him
as
the
only
person
between
whom
and
himself
there
were
ties
of
innocent
reliance
on
one
hand
,
and
affectionate
protection
on
the
other
;
ties
of
compassion
,
respect
,
unselfish
interest
,
gratitude
,
and
pity
.
Thinking
of
her
,
and
of
the
possibility
of
her
father
’
s
release
from
prison
by
the
unbarring
hand
of
death
—
the
only
change
of
circumstance
he
could
foresee
that
might
enable
him
to
be
such
a
friend
to
her
as
he
wished
to
be
,
by
altering
her
whole
manner
of
life
,
smoothing
her
rough
road
,
and
giving
her
a
home
—
he
regarded
her
,
in
that
perspective
,
as
his
adopted
daughter
,
his
poor
child
of
the
Marshalsea
hushed
to
rest
.
If
there
were
a
last
subject
in
his
thoughts
,
and
it
lay
towards
Twickenham
,
its
form
was
so
indefinite
that
it
was
little
more
than
the
pervading
atmosphere
in
which
these
other
subjects
floated
before
him
.
