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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 2/761
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A
prison
taint
was
on
everything
there
.
The
imprisoned
air
,
the
imprisoned
light
,
the
imprisoned
damps
,
the
imprisoned
men
,
were
all
deteriorated
by
confinement
.
As
the
captive
men
were
faded
and
haggard
,
so
the
iron
was
rusty
,
the
stone
was
slimy
,
the
wood
was
rotten
,
the
air
was
faint
,
the
light
was
dim
.
Like
a
well
,
like
a
vault
,
like
a
tomb
,
the
prison
had
no
knowledge
of
the
brightness
outside
,
and
would
have
kept
its
polluted
atmosphere
intact
in
one
of
the
spice
islands
of
the
Indian
ocean
.
The
man
who
lay
on
the
ledge
of
the
grating
was
even
chilled
.
He
jerked
his
great
cloak
more
heavily
upon
him
by
an
impatient
movement
of
one
shoulder
,
and
growled
,
‘
To
the
devil
with
this
Brigand
of
a
Sun
that
never
shines
in
here
!
’
He
was
waiting
to
be
fed
,
looking
sideways
through
the
bars
that
he
might
see
the
further
down
the
stairs
,
with
much
of
the
expression
of
a
wild
beast
in
similar
expectation
.
But
his
eyes
,
too
close
together
,
were
not
so
nobly
set
in
his
head
as
those
of
the
king
of
beasts
are
in
his
,
and
they
were
sharp
rather
than
bright
—
pointed
weapons
with
little
surface
to
betray
them
.
They
had
no
depth
or
change
;
they
glittered
,
and
they
opened
and
shut
.
So
far
,
and
waiving
their
use
to
himself
,
a
clockmaker
could
have
made
a
better
pair
.
He
had
a
hook
nose
,
handsome
after
its
kind
,
but
too
high
between
the
eyes
by
probably
just
as
much
as
his
eyes
were
too
near
to
one
another
.
For
the
rest
,
he
was
large
and
tall
in
frame
,
had
thin
lips
,
where
his
thick
moustache
showed
them
at
all
,
and
a
quantity
of
dry
hair
,
of
no
definable
colour
,
in
its
shaggy
state
,
but
shot
with
red
.
The
hand
with
which
he
held
the
grating
(
seamed
all
over
the
back
with
ugly
scratches
newly
healed
)
,
was
unusually
small
and
plump
;
would
have
been
unusually
white
but
for
the
prison
grime
.
The
other
man
was
lying
on
the
stone
floor
,
covered
with
a
coarse
brown
coat
.
‘
Get
up
,
pig
!
’
growled
the
first
.
‘
Don
’
t
sleep
when
I
am
hungry
.
’
‘
It
’
s
all
one
,
master
,
’
said
the
pig
,
in
a
submissive
manner
,
and
not
without
cheerfulness
;
‘
I
can
wake
when
I
will
,
I
can
sleep
when
I
will
.
It
’
s
all
the
same
.
’
As
he
said
it
,
he
rose
,
shook
himself
,
scratched
himself
,
tied
his
brown
coat
loosely
round
his
neck
by
the
sleeves
(
he
had
previously
used
it
as
a
coverlet
)
,
and
sat
down
upon
the
pavement
yawning
,
with
his
back
against
the
wall
opposite
to
the
grating
.
‘
Say
what
the
hour
is
,
’
grumbled
the
first
man
.
