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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 394/761
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The
Collegians
cheered
him
very
heartily
,
and
he
kissed
his
hand
to
them
with
great
urbanity
and
protection
.
When
he
withdrew
into
the
room
again
,
he
said
‘
Poor
creatures
!
’
in
a
tone
of
much
pity
for
their
miserable
condition
.
Little
Dorrit
was
deeply
anxious
that
he
should
lie
down
to
compose
himself
.
On
Arthur
’
s
speaking
to
her
of
his
going
to
inform
Pancks
that
he
might
now
appear
as
soon
as
he
would
,
and
pursue
the
joyful
business
to
its
close
,
she
entreated
him
in
a
whisper
to
stay
with
her
until
her
father
should
be
quite
calm
and
at
rest
.
He
needed
no
second
entreaty
;
and
she
prepared
her
father
’
s
bed
,
and
begged
him
to
lie
down
.
For
another
half
-
hour
or
more
he
would
be
persuaded
to
do
nothing
but
go
about
the
room
,
discussing
with
himself
the
probabilities
for
and
against
the
Marshal
’
s
allowing
the
whole
of
the
prisoners
to
go
to
the
windows
of
the
official
residence
which
commanded
the
street
,
to
see
himself
and
family
depart
for
ever
in
a
carriage
—
which
,
he
said
,
he
thought
would
be
a
Sight
for
them
.
But
gradually
he
began
to
droop
and
tire
,
and
at
last
stretched
himself
upon
the
bed
.
She
took
her
faithful
place
beside
him
,
fanning
him
and
cooling
his
forehead
;
and
he
seemed
to
be
falling
asleep
(
always
with
the
money
in
his
hand
)
,
when
he
unexpectedly
sat
up
and
said
:
‘
Mr
Clennam
,
I
beg
your
pardon
.
Am
I
to
understand
,
my
dear
sir
,
that
I
could
—
ha
—
could
pass
through
the
Lodge
at
this
moment
,
and
—
hum
—
take
a
walk
?
’
‘
I
think
not
,
Mr
Dorrit
,
’
was
the
unwilling
reply
.
‘
There
are
certain
forms
to
be
completed
;
and
although
your
detention
here
is
now
in
itself
a
form
,
I
fear
it
is
one
that
for
a
little
longer
has
to
be
observed
too
.
’
At
this
he
shed
tears
again
.
‘
It
is
but
a
few
hours
,
sir
,
’
Clennam
cheerfully
urged
upon
him
.
‘
A
few
hours
,
sir
,
’
he
returned
in
a
sudden
passion
.
‘
You
talk
very
easily
of
hours
,
sir
!
How
long
do
you
suppose
,
sir
,
that
an
hour
is
to
a
man
who
is
choking
for
want
of
air
?
’
It
was
his
last
demonstration
for
that
time
;
as
,
after
shedding
some
more
tears
and
querulously
complaining
that
he
couldn
’
t
breathe
,
he
slowly
fell
into
a
slumber
.
Clennam
had
abundant
occupation
for
his
thoughts
,
as
he
sat
in
the
quiet
room
watching
the
father
on
his
bed
,
and
the
daughter
fanning
his
face
.
