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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 317/761
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‘
Arthur
,
’
said
Mr
Meagles
,
much
subdued
,
‘
I
carry
that
fancy
further
to
-
night
.
I
feel
to
-
night
,
my
dear
fellow
,
as
if
you
had
loved
my
dead
child
very
tenderly
,
and
had
lost
her
when
she
was
like
what
Pet
is
now
.
’
‘
Thank
you
!
’
murmured
Clennam
,
‘
thank
you
!
’
And
pressed
his
hand
.
‘
Will
you
come
in
?
’
said
Mr
Meagles
,
presently
.
‘
In
a
little
while
.
’
Mr
Meagles
fell
away
,
and
he
was
left
alone
.
When
he
had
walked
on
the
river
’
s
brink
in
the
peaceful
moonlight
for
some
half
an
hour
,
he
put
his
hand
in
his
breast
and
tenderly
took
out
the
handful
of
roses
.
Perhaps
he
put
them
to
his
heart
,
perhaps
he
put
them
to
his
lips
,
but
certainly
he
bent
down
on
the
shore
and
gently
launched
them
on
the
flowing
river
Pale
and
unreal
in
the
moonlight
,
the
river
floated
them
away
.
The
lights
were
bright
within
doors
when
he
entered
,
and
the
faces
on
which
they
shone
,
his
own
face
not
excepted
,
were
soon
quietly
cheerful
.
They
talked
of
many
subjects
(
his
partner
never
had
had
such
a
ready
store
to
draw
upon
for
the
beguiling
of
the
time
)
,
and
so
to
bed
,
and
to
sleep
.
While
the
flowers
,
pale
and
unreal
in
the
moonlight
,
floated
away
upon
the
river
;
and
thus
do
greater
things
that
once
were
in
our
breasts
,
and
near
our
hearts
,
flow
from
us
to
the
eternal
seas
.
The
house
in
the
city
preserved
its
heavy
dulness
through
all
these
transactions
,
and
the
invalid
within
it
turned
the
same
unvarying
round
of
life
.
Morning
,
noon
,
and
night
,
morning
,
noon
,
and
night
,
each
recurring
with
its
accompanying
monotony
,
always
the
same
reluctant
return
of
the
same
sequences
of
machinery
,
like
a
dragging
piece
of
clockwork
.
The
wheeled
chair
had
its
associated
remembrances
and
reveries
,
one
may
suppose
,
as
every
place
that
is
made
the
station
of
a
human
being
has
.
Pictures
of
demolished
streets
and
altered
houses
,
as
they
formerly
were
when
the
occupant
of
the
chair
was
familiar
with
them
,
images
of
people
as
they
too
used
to
be
,
with
little
or
no
allowance
made
for
the
lapse
of
time
since
they
were
seen
;
of
these
,
there
must
have
been
many
in
the
long
routine
of
gloomy
days
.
To
stop
the
clock
of
busy
existence
at
the
hour
when
we
were
personally
sequestered
from
it
,
to
suppose
mankind
stricken
motionless
when
we
were
brought
to
a
stand
-
still
,
to
be
unable
to
measure
the
changes
beyond
our
view
by
any
larger
standard
than
the
shrunken
one
of
our
own
uniform
and
contracted
existence
,
is
the
infirmity
of
many
invalids
,
and
the
mental
unhealthiness
of
almost
all
recluses
.
What
scenes
and
actors
the
stern
woman
most
reviewed
,
as
she
sat
from
season
to
season
in
her
one
dark
room
,
none
knew
but
herself
.
Mr
Flintwinch
,
with
his
wry
presence
brought
to
bear
upon
her
daily
like
some
eccentric
mechanical
force
,
would
perhaps
have
screwed
it
out
of
her
,
if
there
had
been
less
resistance
in
her
;
but
she
was
too
strong
for
him
.
