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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
Yes
,
my
dear
,
I
hope
so
.
In
good
time
,
please
God
.
’
Here
Mr
Plornish
delivered
himself
of
an
oration
which
he
invariably
made
,
word
for
word
the
same
,
on
all
such
opportunities
.
It
was
couched
in
the
following
terms
:
‘
John
Edward
Nandy
.
Sir
.
While
there
’
s
a
ounce
of
wittles
or
drink
of
any
sort
in
this
present
roof
,
you
’
re
fully
welcome
to
your
share
on
it
.
While
there
’
s
a
handful
of
fire
or
a
mouthful
of
bed
in
this
present
roof
,
you
’
re
fully
welcome
to
your
share
on
it
.
If
so
be
as
there
should
be
nothing
in
this
present
roof
,
you
should
be
as
welcome
to
your
share
on
it
as
if
it
was
something
,
much
or
little
.
And
this
is
what
I
mean
and
so
I
don
’
t
deceive
you
,
and
consequently
which
is
to
stand
out
is
to
entreat
of
you
,
and
therefore
why
not
do
it
?
’
To
this
lucid
address
,
which
Mr
Plornish
always
delivered
as
if
he
had
composed
it
(
as
no
doubt
he
had
)
with
enormous
labour
,
Mrs
Plornish
’
s
father
pipingly
replied
:
‘
I
thank
you
kindly
,
Thomas
,
and
I
know
your
intentions
well
,
which
is
the
same
I
thank
you
kindly
for
.
But
no
,
Thomas
.
Until
such
times
as
it
’
s
not
to
take
it
out
of
your
children
’
s
mouths
,
which
take
it
is
,
and
call
it
by
what
name
you
will
it
do
remain
and
equally
deprive
,
though
may
they
come
,
and
too
soon
they
can
not
come
,
no
Thomas
,
no
!
’
Mrs
Plornish
,
who
had
been
turning
her
face
a
little
away
with
a
corner
of
her
apron
in
her
hand
,
brought
herself
back
to
the
conversation
again
by
telling
Miss
Dorrit
that
Father
was
going
over
the
water
to
pay
his
respects
,
unless
she
knew
of
any
reason
why
it
might
not
be
agreeable
.
Her
answer
was
,
‘
I
am
going
straight
home
,
and
if
he
will
come
with
me
I
shall
be
so
glad
to
take
care
of
him
—
so
glad
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
always
thoughtful
of
the
feelings
of
the
weak
,
‘
of
his
company
.
’
‘
There
,
Father
!
’
cried
Mrs
Plornish
.
‘
Ain
’
t
you
a
gay
young
man
to
be
going
for
a
walk
along
with
Miss
Dorrit
!
Let
me
tie
your
neck
-
handkerchief
into
a
regular
good
bow
,
for
you
’
re
a
regular
beau
yourself
,
Father
,
if
ever
there
was
one
.
’
