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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 408/761
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With
the
supper
came
one
of
the
young
Fathers
(
there
seemed
to
be
no
old
Fathers
)
to
take
the
head
of
the
table
.
It
was
like
the
supper
of
an
ordinary
Swiss
hotel
,
and
good
red
wine
grown
by
the
convent
in
more
genial
air
was
not
wanting
.
The
artist
traveller
calmly
came
and
took
his
place
at
table
when
the
rest
sat
down
,
with
no
apparent
sense
upon
him
of
his
late
skirmish
with
the
completely
dressed
traveller
.
‘
Pray
,
’
he
inquired
of
the
host
,
over
his
soup
,
‘
has
your
convent
many
of
its
famous
dogs
now
?
’
‘
Monsieur
,
it
has
three
.
’
‘
I
saw
three
in
the
gallery
below
.
Doubtless
the
three
in
question
.
’
The
host
,
a
slender
,
bright
-
eyed
,
dark
young
man
of
polite
manners
,
whose
garment
was
a
black
gown
with
strips
of
white
crossed
over
it
like
braces
,
and
who
no
more
resembled
the
conventional
breed
of
Saint
Bernard
monks
than
he
resembled
the
conventional
breed
of
Saint
Bernard
dogs
,
replied
,
doubtless
those
were
the
three
in
question
.
‘
And
I
think
,
’
said
the
artist
traveller
,
‘
I
have
seen
one
of
them
before
.
’
It
was
possible
.
He
was
a
dog
sufficiently
well
known
.
Monsieur
might
have
easily
seen
him
in
the
valley
or
somewhere
on
the
lake
,
when
he
(
the
dog
)
had
gone
down
with
one
of
the
order
to
solicit
aid
for
the
convent
.
‘
Which
is
done
in
its
regular
season
of
the
year
,
I
think
?
’
Monsieur
was
right
.
‘
And
never
without
a
dog
.
The
dog
is
very
important
.
