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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 188/761
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It
was
just
large
enough
,
and
no
more
;
was
as
pretty
within
as
it
was
without
,
and
was
perfectly
well
-
arranged
and
comfortable
.
Some
traces
of
the
migratory
habits
of
the
family
were
to
be
observed
in
the
covered
frames
and
furniture
,
and
wrapped
-
up
hangings
;
but
it
was
easy
to
see
that
it
was
one
of
Mr
Meagles
’
s
whims
to
have
the
cottage
always
kept
,
in
their
absence
,
as
if
they
were
always
coming
back
the
day
after
to
-
morrow
.
Of
articles
collected
on
his
various
expeditions
,
there
was
such
a
vast
miscellany
that
it
was
like
the
dwelling
of
an
amiable
Corsair
.
There
were
antiquities
from
Central
Italy
,
made
by
the
best
modern
houses
in
that
department
of
industry
;
bits
of
mummy
from
Egypt
(
and
perhaps
Birmingham
)
;
model
gondolas
from
Venice
;
model
villages
from
Switzerland
;
morsels
of
tesselated
pavement
from
Herculaneum
and
Pompeii
,
like
petrified
minced
veal
;
ashes
out
of
tombs
,
and
lava
out
of
Vesuvius
;
Spanish
fans
,
Spezzian
straw
hats
,
Moorish
slippers
,
Tuscan
hairpins
,
Carrara
sculpture
,
Trastaverini
scarves
,
Genoese
velvets
and
filigree
,
Neapolitan
coral
,
Roman
cameos
,
Geneva
jewellery
,
Arab
lanterns
,
rosaries
blest
all
round
by
the
Pope
himself
,
and
an
infinite
variety
of
lumber
.
There
were
views
,
like
and
unlike
,
of
a
multitude
of
places
;
and
there
was
one
little
picture
-
room
devoted
to
a
few
of
the
regular
sticky
old
Saints
,
with
sinews
like
whipcord
,
hair
like
Neptune
’
s
,
wrinkles
like
tattooing
,
and
such
coats
of
varnish
that
every
holy
personage
served
for
a
fly
-
trap
,
and
became
what
is
now
called
in
the
vulgar
tongue
a
Catch
-
em
-
alive
O
.
Of
these
pictorial
acquisitions
Mr
Meagles
spoke
in
the
usual
manner
.
He
was
no
judge
,
he
said
,
except
of
what
pleased
himself
;
he
had
picked
them
up
,
dirt
-
cheap
,
and
people
had
considered
them
rather
fine
.
One
man
,
who
at
any
rate
ought
to
know
something
of
the
subject
,
had
declared
that
‘
Sage
,
Reading
’
(
a
specially
oily
old
gentleman
in
a
blanket
,
with
a
swan
’
s
-
down
tippet
for
a
beard
,
and
a
web
of
cracks
all
over
him
like
rich
pie
-
crust
)
,
to
be
a
fine
Guercino
.
As
for
Sebastian
del
Piombo
there
,
you
would
judge
for
yourself
;
if
it
were
not
his
later
manner
,
the
question
was
,
Who
was
it
?
Titian
,
that
might
or
might
not
be
—
perhaps
he
had
only
touched
it
.
Daniel
Doyce
said
perhaps
he
hadn
’
t
touched
it
,
but
Mr
Meagles
rather
declined
to
overhear
the
remark
.
When
he
had
shown
all
his
spoils
,
Mr
Meagles
took
them
into
his
own
snug
room
overlooking
the
lawn
,
which
was
fitted
up
in
part
like
a
dressing
-
room
and
in
part
like
an
office
,
and
in
which
,
upon
a
kind
of
counter
-
desk
,
were
a
pair
of
brass
scales
for
weighing
gold
,
and
a
scoop
for
shovelling
out
money
.
‘
Here
they
are
,
you
see
,
’
said
Mr
Meagles
.
‘
I
stood
behind
these
two
articles
five
-
and
-
thirty
years
running
,
when
I
no
more
thought
of
gadding
about
than
I
now
think
of
—
staying
at
home
.
When
I
left
the
Bank
for
good
,
I
asked
for
them
,
and
brought
them
away
with
me
.
I
mention
it
at
once
,
or
you
might
suppose
that
I
sit
in
my
counting
-
house
(
as
Pet
says
I
do
)
,
like
the
king
in
the
poem
of
the
four
-
and
-
twenty
blackbirds
,
counting
out
my
money
.
’
Clennam
’
s
eyes
had
strayed
to
a
natural
picture
on
the
wall
,
of
two
pretty
little
girls
with
their
arms
entwined
.
‘
Yes
,
Clennam
,
’
said
Mr
Meagles
,
in
a
lower
voice
.
‘
There
they
both
are
.
It
was
taken
some
seventeen
years
ago
.
As
I
often
say
to
Mother
,
they
were
babies
then
.
’
‘
Their
names
?
’
said
Arthur
.
‘
Ah
,
to
be
sure
!
You
have
never
heard
any
name
but
Pet
.
Pet
’
s
name
is
Minnie
;
her
sister
’
s
Lillie
.
’
‘
Should
you
have
known
,
Mr
Clennam
,
that
one
of
them
was
meant
for
me
?
’
asked
Pet
herself
,
now
standing
in
the
doorway
.
‘
I
might
have
thought
that
both
of
them
were
meant
for
you
,
both
are
still
so
like
you
.
Indeed
,
’
said
Clennam
,
glancing
from
the
fair
original
to
the
picture
and
back
,
‘
I
cannot
even
now
say
which
is
not
your
portrait
.
’
