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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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‘
Not
exactly
that
.
Put
it
another
way
.
That
you
can
’
t
believe
it
easy
to
forgive
.
’
‘
My
experience
,
’
she
quietly
returned
,
‘
has
been
correcting
my
belief
in
many
respects
,
for
some
years
.
It
is
our
natural
progress
,
I
have
heard
.
’
‘
Well
,
well
!
But
it
’
s
not
natural
to
bear
malice
,
I
hope
?
’
said
Mr
Meagles
,
cheerily
.
‘
If
I
had
been
shut
up
in
any
place
to
pine
and
suffer
,
I
should
always
hate
that
place
and
wish
to
burn
it
down
,
or
raze
it
to
the
ground
.
I
know
no
more
.
’
‘
Strong
,
sir
?
’
said
Mr
Meagles
to
the
Frenchman
;
it
being
another
of
his
habits
to
address
individuals
of
all
nations
in
idiomatic
English
,
with
a
perfect
conviction
that
they
were
bound
to
understand
it
somehow
.
‘
Rather
forcible
in
our
fair
friend
,
you
’
ll
agree
with
me
,
I
think
?
’
The
French
gentleman
courteously
replied
,
‘
Plait
-
il
?
’
To
which
Mr
Meagles
returned
with
much
satisfaction
,
‘
You
are
right
.
My
opinion
.
’
The
breakfast
beginning
by
-
and
-
by
to
languish
,
Mr
Meagles
made
the
company
a
speech
.
It
was
short
enough
and
sensible
enough
,
considering
that
it
was
a
speech
at
all
,
and
hearty
.
It
merely
went
to
the
effect
that
as
they
had
all
been
thrown
together
by
chance
,
and
had
all
preserved
a
good
understanding
together
,
and
were
now
about
to
disperse
,
and
were
not
likely
ever
to
find
themselves
all
together
again
,
what
could
they
do
better
than
bid
farewell
to
one
another
,
and
give
one
another
good
-
speed
in
a
simultaneous
glass
of
cool
champagne
all
round
the
table
?
It
was
done
,
and
with
a
general
shaking
of
hands
the
assembly
broke
up
for
ever
.
The
solitary
young
lady
all
this
time
had
said
no
more
.
She
rose
with
the
rest
,
and
silently
withdrew
to
a
remote
corner
of
the
great
room
,
where
she
sat
herself
on
a
couch
in
a
window
,
seeming
to
watch
the
reflection
of
the
water
as
it
made
a
silver
quivering
on
the
bars
of
the
lattice
.
She
sat
,
turned
away
from
the
whole
length
of
the
apartment
,
as
if
she
were
lonely
of
her
own
haughty
choice
.
And
yet
it
would
have
been
as
difficult
as
ever
to
say
,
positively
,
whether
she
avoided
the
rest
,
or
was
avoided
.
The
shadow
in
which
she
sat
,
falling
like
a
gloomy
veil
across
her
forehead
,
accorded
very
well
with
the
character
of
her
beauty
.
One
could
hardly
see
the
face
,
so
still
and
scornful
,
set
off
by
the
arched
dark
eyebrows
,
and
the
folds
of
dark
hair
,
without
wondering
what
its
expression
would
be
if
a
change
came
over
it
.
That
it
could
soften
or
relent
,
appeared
next
to
impossible
.
That
it
could
deepen
into
anger
or
any
extreme
of
defiance
,
and
that
it
must
change
in
that
direction
when
it
changed
at
all
,
would
have
been
its
peculiar
impression
upon
most
observers
.
It
was
dressed
and
trimmed
into
no
ceremony
of
expression
.
