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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 266/761
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Little
Dorrit
glanced
at
the
portrait
again
.
The
artist
had
given
it
a
head
that
would
have
been
,
in
an
intellectual
point
of
view
,
top
-
heavy
for
Shakespeare
.
‘
Romance
,
however
,
’
Flora
went
on
,
busily
arranging
Mr
F
.
‘
s
Aunt
’
s
toast
,
‘
as
I
openly
said
to
Mr
F
.
when
he
proposed
to
me
and
you
will
be
surprised
to
hear
that
he
proposed
seven
times
once
in
a
hackney
-
coach
once
in
a
boat
once
in
a
pew
once
on
a
donkey
at
Tunbridge
Wells
and
the
rest
on
his
knees
,
Romance
was
fled
with
the
early
days
of
Arthur
Clennam
,
our
parents
tore
us
asunder
we
became
marble
and
stern
reality
usurped
the
throne
,
Mr
F
.
said
very
much
to
his
credit
that
he
was
perfectly
aware
of
it
and
even
preferred
that
state
of
things
accordingly
the
word
was
spoken
the
fiat
went
forth
and
such
is
life
you
see
my
dear
and
yet
we
do
not
break
but
bend
,
pray
make
a
good
breakfast
while
I
go
in
with
the
tray
.
’
She
disappeared
,
leaving
Little
Dorrit
to
ponder
over
the
meaning
of
her
scattered
words
.
She
soon
came
back
again
;
and
at
last
began
to
take
her
own
breakfast
,
talking
all
the
while
.
‘
You
see
,
my
dear
,
’
said
Flora
,
measuring
out
a
spoonful
or
two
of
some
brown
liquid
that
smelt
like
brandy
,
and
putting
it
into
her
tea
,
‘
I
am
obliged
to
be
careful
to
follow
the
directions
of
my
medical
man
though
the
flavour
is
anything
but
agreeable
being
a
poor
creature
and
it
may
be
have
never
recovered
the
shock
received
in
youth
from
too
much
giving
way
to
crying
in
the
next
room
when
separated
from
Arthur
,
have
you
known
him
long
?
’
As
soon
as
Little
Dorrit
comprehended
that
she
had
been
asked
this
question
—
for
which
time
was
necessary
,
the
galloping
pace
of
her
new
patroness
having
left
her
far
behind
—
she
answered
that
she
had
known
Mr
Clennam
ever
since
his
return
.
‘
To
be
sure
you
couldn
’
t
have
known
him
before
unless
you
had
been
in
China
or
had
corresponded
neither
of
which
is
likely
,
’
returned
Flora
,
‘
for
travelling
-
people
usually
get
more
or
less
mahogany
and
you
are
not
at
all
so
and
as
to
corresponding
what
about
?
that
’
s
very
true
unless
tea
,
so
it
was
at
his
mother
’
s
was
it
really
that
you
knew
him
first
,
highly
sensible
and
firm
but
dreadfully
severe
—
ought
to
be
the
mother
of
the
man
in
the
iron
mask
.
’
‘
Mrs
Clennam
has
been
kind
to
me
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
.
‘
Really
?
I
am
sure
I
am
glad
to
hear
it
because
as
Arthur
’
s
mother
it
’
s
naturally
pleasant
to
my
feelings
to
have
a
better
opinion
of
her
than
I
had
before
,
though
what
she
thinks
of
me
when
I
run
on
as
I
am
certain
to
do
and
she
sits
glowering
at
me
like
Fate
in
a
go
-
cart
—
shocking
comparison
really
—
invalid
and
not
her
fault
—
I
never
know
or
can
imagine
.
’
‘
Shall
I
find
my
work
anywhere
,
ma
’
am
?
’
asked
Little
Dorrit
,
looking
timidly
about
;
‘
can
I
get
it
?
’
