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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
Really
so
sorry
that
I
should
happen
to
be
late
on
this
morning
of
all
mornings
because
my
intention
and
my
wish
was
to
be
ready
to
meet
you
when
you
came
in
and
to
say
that
any
one
that
interested
Arthur
Clennam
half
so
much
must
interest
me
and
that
I
gave
you
the
heartiest
welcome
and
was
so
glad
,
instead
of
which
they
never
called
me
and
there
I
still
am
snoring
I
dare
say
if
the
truth
was
known
and
if
you
don
’
t
like
either
cold
fowl
or
hot
boiled
ham
which
many
people
don
’
t
I
dare
say
besides
Jews
and
theirs
are
scruples
of
conscience
which
we
must
all
respect
though
I
must
say
I
wish
they
had
them
equally
strong
when
they
sell
us
false
articles
for
real
that
certainly
ain
’
t
worth
the
money
I
shall
be
quite
vexed
,
’
said
Flora
.
Little
Dorrit
thanked
her
,
and
said
,
shyly
,
bread
-
and
-
butter
and
tea
was
all
she
usually
—
‘
Oh
nonsense
my
dear
child
I
can
never
hear
of
that
,
’
said
Flora
,
turning
on
the
urn
in
the
most
reckless
manner
,
and
making
herself
wink
by
splashing
hot
water
into
her
eyes
as
she
bent
down
to
look
into
the
teapot
.
‘
You
are
coming
here
on
the
footing
of
a
friend
and
companion
you
know
if
you
will
let
me
take
that
liberty
and
I
should
be
ashamed
of
myself
indeed
if
you
could
come
here
upon
any
other
,
besides
which
Arthur
Clennam
spoke
in
such
terms
—
you
are
tired
my
dear
.
’
‘
No
,
ma
’
am
.
’
‘
You
turn
so
pale
you
have
walked
too
far
before
breakfast
and
I
dare
say
live
a
great
way
off
and
ought
to
have
had
a
ride
,
’
said
Flora
,
‘
dear
dear
is
there
anything
that
would
do
you
good
?
’
‘
Indeed
I
am
quite
well
,
ma
’
am
.
I
thank
you
again
and
again
,
but
I
am
quite
well
.
’
‘
Then
take
your
tea
at
once
I
beg
,
’
said
Flora
,
‘
and
this
wing
of
fowl
and
bit
of
ham
,
don
’
t
mind
me
or
wait
for
me
,
because
I
always
carry
in
this
tray
myself
to
Mr
F
.
‘
s
Aunt
who
breakfasts
in
bed
and
a
charming
old
lady
too
and
very
clever
,
Portrait
of
Mr
F
.
behind
the
door
and
very
like
though
too
much
forehead
and
as
to
a
pillar
with
a
marble
pavement
and
balustrades
and
a
mountain
,
I
never
saw
him
near
it
nor
not
likely
in
the
wine
trade
,
excellent
man
but
not
at
all
in
that
way
.
’
Little
Dorrit
glanced
at
the
portrait
,
very
imperfectly
following
the
references
to
that
work
of
art
.
‘
Mr
F
.
was
so
devoted
to
me
that
he
never
could
bear
me
out
of
his
sight
,
’
said
Flora
,
‘
though
of
course
I
am
unable
to
say
how
long
that
might
have
lasted
if
he
hadn
’
t
been
cut
short
while
I
was
a
new
broom
,
worthy
man
but
not
poetical
manly
prose
but
not
romance
.
’
