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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 412/761
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Monsieur
,
as
an
English
traveller
,
surrounded
by
all
means
of
travelling
pleasantly
;
doubtless
possessing
fortune
,
carriages
,
and
servants
—
‘
Perfectly
,
perfectly
.
Without
doubt
,
’
said
the
gentleman
.
Monsieur
could
not
easily
place
himself
in
the
position
of
a
person
who
had
not
the
power
to
choose
,
I
will
go
here
to
-
morrow
,
or
there
next
day
;
I
will
pass
these
barriers
,
I
will
enlarge
those
bounds
.
Monsieur
could
not
realise
,
perhaps
,
how
the
mind
accommodated
itself
in
such
things
to
the
force
of
necessity
.
‘
It
is
true
,
’
said
Monsieur
.
‘
We
will
—
ha
—
not
pursue
the
subject
.
You
are
—
hum
—
quite
accurate
,
I
have
no
doubt
.
We
will
say
no
more
.
’
The
supper
having
come
to
a
close
,
he
drew
his
chair
away
as
he
spoke
,
and
moved
back
to
his
former
place
by
the
fire
.
As
it
was
very
cold
at
the
greater
part
of
the
table
,
the
other
guests
also
resumed
their
former
seats
by
the
fire
,
designing
to
toast
themselves
well
before
going
to
bed
.
The
host
,
when
they
rose
from
the
table
,
bowed
to
all
present
,
wished
them
good
night
,
and
withdrew
.
But
first
the
insinuating
traveller
had
asked
him
if
they
could
have
some
wine
made
hot
;
and
as
he
had
answered
Yes
,
and
had
presently
afterwards
sent
it
in
,
that
traveller
,
seated
in
the
centre
of
the
group
,
and
in
the
full
heat
of
the
fire
,
was
soon
engaged
in
serving
it
out
to
the
rest
.
At
this
time
,
the
younger
of
the
two
young
ladies
,
who
had
been
silently
attentive
in
her
dark
corner
(
the
fire
-
light
was
the
chief
light
in
the
sombre
room
,
the
lamp
being
smoky
and
dull
)
to
what
had
been
said
of
the
absent
lady
,
glided
out
.
She
was
at
a
loss
which
way
to
turn
when
she
had
softly
closed
the
door
;
but
,
after
a
little
hesitation
among
the
sounding
passages
and
the
many
ways
,
came
to
a
room
in
a
corner
of
the
main
gallery
,
where
the
servants
were
at
their
supper
.
From
these
she
obtained
a
lamp
,
and
a
direction
to
the
lady
’
s
room
.
It
was
up
the
great
staircase
on
the
story
above
.
Here
and
there
,
the
bare
white
walls
were
broken
by
an
iron
grate
,
and
she
thought
as
she
went
along
that
the
place
was
something
like
a
prison
.
The
arched
door
of
the
lady
’
s
room
,
or
cell
,
was
not
quite
shut
.
After
knocking
at
it
two
or
three
times
without
receiving
an
answer
,
she
pushed
it
gently
open
,
and
looked
in
.
The
lady
lay
with
closed
eyes
on
the
outside
of
the
bed
,
protected
from
the
cold
by
the
blankets
and
wrappers
with
which
she
had
been
covered
when
she
revived
from
her
fainting
fit
.
A
dull
light
placed
in
the
deep
recess
of
the
window
,
made
little
impression
on
the
arched
room
.
The
visitor
timidly
stepped
to
the
bed
,
and
said
,
in
a
soft
whisper
,
‘
Are
you
better
?
’
