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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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‘
It
’
s
a
portrait
,
sir
,
as
you
observe
.
’
‘
May
I
ask
the
subject
,
Mr
Flintwinch
?
’
‘
Mr
Clennam
,
deceased
.
Her
husband
.
’
‘
Former
owner
of
the
remarkable
watch
,
perhaps
?
’
said
the
visitor
.
Mr
Flintwinch
,
who
had
cast
his
eyes
towards
the
portrait
,
twisted
himself
about
again
,
and
again
found
himself
the
subject
of
the
same
look
and
smile
.
‘
Yes
,
Mr
Blandois
,
’
he
replied
tartly
.
‘
It
was
his
,
and
his
uncle
’
s
before
him
,
and
Lord
knows
who
before
him
;
and
that
’
s
all
I
can
tell
you
of
its
pedigree
.
’
‘
That
’
s
a
strongly
marked
character
,
Mr
Flintwinch
,
our
friend
up
-
stairs
.
’
‘
Yes
,
sir
,
’
said
Jeremiah
,
twisting
himself
at
the
visitor
again
,
as
he
did
during
the
whole
of
this
dialogue
,
like
some
screw
-
machine
that
fell
short
of
its
grip
;
for
the
other
never
changed
,
and
he
always
felt
obliged
to
retreat
a
little
.
‘
She
is
a
remarkable
woman
.
Great
fortitude
—
great
strength
of
mind
.
’
‘
They
must
have
been
very
happy
,
’
said
Blandois
.
‘
Who
?
’
demanded
Mr
Flintwinch
,
with
another
screw
at
him
.
Mr
Blandois
shook
his
right
forefinger
towards
the
sick
room
,
and
his
left
forefinger
towards
the
portrait
,
and
then
,
putting
his
arms
akimbo
and
striding
his
legs
wide
apart
,
stood
smiling
down
at
Mr
Flintwinch
with
the
advancing
nose
and
the
retreating
moustache
.
