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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 385/761
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‘
I
’
ll
tell
you
how
I
did
it
,
’
said
the
delighted
Pancks
,
putting
his
hair
into
a
condition
as
elevated
as
himself
.
‘
First
,
I
spent
all
I
had
of
my
own
.
That
wasn
’
t
much
.
’
‘
I
am
sorry
for
it
,
’
said
Clennam
:
‘
not
that
it
matters
now
,
though
.
Then
,
what
did
you
do
?
’
‘
Then
,
’
answered
Pancks
,
‘
I
borrowed
a
sum
of
my
proprietor
.
’
‘
Of
Mr
Casby
?
’
said
Clennam
.
‘
He
’
s
a
fine
old
fellow
.
’
‘
Noble
old
boy
;
an
’
t
he
?
’
said
Mr
Pancks
,
entering
on
a
series
of
the
dryest
snorts
.
‘
Generous
old
buck
.
Confiding
old
boy
.
Philanthropic
old
buck
.
Benevolent
old
boy
!
Twenty
per
cent
.
I
engaged
to
pay
him
,
sir
.
But
we
never
do
business
for
less
at
our
shop
.
’
Arthur
felt
an
awkward
consciousness
of
having
,
in
his
exultant
condition
,
been
a
little
premature
.
‘
I
said
to
that
boiling
-
over
old
Christian
,
’
Mr
Pancks
pursued
,
appearing
greatly
to
relish
this
descriptive
epithet
,
‘
that
I
had
got
a
little
project
on
hand
;
a
hopeful
one
;
I
told
him
a
hopeful
one
;
which
wanted
a
certain
small
capital
.
I
proposed
to
him
to
lend
me
the
money
on
my
note
.
Which
he
did
,
at
twenty
;
sticking
the
twenty
on
in
a
business
-
like
way
,
and
putting
it
into
the
note
,
to
look
like
a
part
of
the
principal
.
If
I
had
broken
down
after
that
,
I
should
have
been
his
grubber
for
the
next
seven
years
at
half
wages
and
double
grind
.
But
he
’
s
a
perfect
Patriarch
;
and
it
would
do
a
man
good
to
serve
him
on
such
terms
—
on
any
terms
.
’
Arthur
for
his
life
could
not
have
said
with
confidence
whether
Pancks
really
thought
so
or
not
.
‘
When
that
was
gone
,
sir
,
’
resumed
Pancks
,
‘
and
it
did
go
,
though
I
dribbled
it
out
like
so
much
blood
,
I
had
taken
Mr
Rugg
into
the
secret
.
I
proposed
to
borrow
of
Mr
Rugg
(
or
of
Miss
Rugg
;
it
’
s
the
same
thing
;
she
made
a
little
money
by
a
speculation
in
the
Common
Pleas
once
)
.
He
lent
it
at
ten
,
and
thought
that
pretty
high
.
But
Mr
Rugg
’
s
a
red
-
haired
man
,
sir
,
and
gets
his
hair
cut
.
And
as
to
the
crown
of
his
hat
,
it
’
s
high
.
And
as
to
the
brim
of
his
hat
,
it
’
s
narrow
.
And
there
’
s
no
more
benevolence
bubbling
out
of
him
,
than
out
of
a
ninepin
.
’
