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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
May
I
ask
,
’
said
Lord
Decimus
,
‘
if
Mr
Darrit
—
or
Dorrit
—
has
any
family
?
’
Nobody
else
replying
,
the
host
said
,
‘
He
has
two
daughters
,
my
lord
.
’
‘
Oh
!
you
are
acquainted
with
him
?
’
asked
Lord
Decimus
.
‘
Mrs
Merdle
is
.
Mr
Sparkler
is
,
too
.
In
fact
,
’
said
Mr
Merdle
,
‘
I
rather
believe
that
one
of
the
young
ladies
has
made
an
impression
on
Edmund
Sparkler
.
He
is
susceptible
,
and
—
I
—
think
—
the
conquest
—
’
Here
Mr
Merdle
stopped
,
and
looked
at
the
table
-
cloth
,
as
he
usually
did
when
he
found
himself
observed
or
listened
to
.
Bar
was
uncommonly
pleased
to
find
that
the
Merdle
family
,
and
this
family
,
had
already
been
brought
into
contact
.
He
submitted
,
in
a
low
voice
across
the
table
to
Bishop
,
that
it
was
a
kind
of
analogical
illustration
of
those
physical
laws
,
in
virtue
of
which
Like
flies
to
Like
.
He
regarded
this
power
of
attraction
in
wealth
to
draw
wealth
to
it
,
as
something
remarkably
interesting
and
curious
—
something
indefinably
allied
to
the
loadstone
and
gravitation
.
Bishop
,
who
had
ambled
back
to
earth
again
when
the
present
theme
was
broached
,
acquiesced
.
He
said
it
was
indeed
highly
important
to
Society
that
one
in
the
trying
situation
of
unexpectedly
finding
himself
invested
with
a
power
for
good
or
for
evil
in
Society
,
should
become
,
as
it
were
,
merged
in
the
superior
power
of
a
more
legitimate
and
more
gigantic
growth
,
the
influence
of
which
(
as
in
the
case
of
our
friend
at
whose
board
we
sat
)
was
habitually
exercised
in
harmony
with
the
best
interests
of
Society
.
Thus
,
instead
of
two
rival
and
contending
flames
,
a
larger
and
a
lesser
,
each
burning
with
a
lurid
and
uncertain
glare
,
we
had
a
blended
and
a
softened
light
whose
genial
ray
diffused
an
equable
warmth
throughout
the
land
.
Bishop
seemed
to
like
his
own
way
of
putting
the
case
very
much
,
and
rather
dwelt
upon
it
;
Bar
,
meanwhile
(
not
to
throw
away
a
jury
-
man
)
,
making
a
show
of
sitting
at
his
feet
and
feeding
on
his
precepts
.
The
dinner
and
dessert
being
three
hours
long
,
the
bashful
Member
cooled
in
the
shadow
of
Lord
Decimus
faster
than
he
warmed
with
food
and
drink
,
and
had
but
a
chilly
time
of
it
.
Lord
Decimus
,
like
a
tall
tower
in
a
flat
country
,
seemed
to
project
himself
across
the
table
-
cloth
,
hide
the
light
from
the
honourable
Member
,
cool
the
honourable
Member
’
s
marrow
,
and
give
him
a
woeful
idea
of
distance
.
When
he
asked
this
unfortunate
traveller
to
take
wine
,
he
encompassed
his
faltering
steps
with
the
gloomiest
of
shades
;
and
when
he
said
,
‘
Your
health
sir
!
’
all
around
him
was
barrenness
and
desolation
.
At
length
Lord
Decimus
,
with
a
coffee
-
cup
in
his
hand
,
began
to
hover
about
among
the
pictures
,
and
to
cause
an
interesting
speculation
to
arise
in
all
minds
as
to
the
probabilities
of
his
ceasing
to
hover
,
and
enabling
the
smaller
birds
to
flutter
up
-
stairs
;
which
could
not
be
done
until
he
had
urged
his
noble
pinions
in
that
direction
.
After
some
delay
,
and
several
stretches
of
his
wings
which
came
to
nothing
,
he
soared
to
the
drawing
-
rooms
.
And
here
a
difficulty
arose
,
which
always
does
arise
when
two
people
are
specially
brought
together
at
a
dinner
to
confer
with
one
another
.
Everybody
(
except
Bishop
,
who
had
no
suspicion
of
it
)
knew
perfectly
well
that
this
dinner
had
been
eaten
and
drunk
,
specifically
to
the
end
that
Lord
Decimus
and
Mr
Merdle
should
have
five
minutes
’
conversation
together
.
The
opportunity
so
elaborately
prepared
was
now
arrived
,
and
it
seemed
from
that
moment
that
no
mere
human
ingenuity
could
so
much
as
get
the
two
chieftains
into
the
same
room
.
Mr
Merdle
and
his
noble
guest
persisted
in
prowling
about
at
opposite
ends
of
the
perspective
.
It
was
in
vain
for
the
engaging
Ferdinand
to
bring
Lord
Decimus
to
look
at
the
bronze
horses
near
Mr
Merdle
.
Then
Mr
Merdle
evaded
,
and
wandered
away
.
It
was
in
vain
for
him
to
bring
Mr
Merdle
to
Lord
Decimus
to
tell
him
the
history
of
the
unique
Dresden
vases
.
Then
Lord
Decimus
evaded
and
wandered
away
,
while
he
was
getting
his
man
up
to
the
mark
.
