-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Крошка Доррит
-
- Стр. 55/761
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
If
Mrs
Affery
had
had
any
will
or
way
of
her
own
,
it
would
probably
have
been
unfavourable
to
Little
Dorrit
.
But
as
‘
them
two
clever
ones
’
—
Mrs
Affery
’
s
perpetual
reference
,
in
whom
her
personality
was
swallowed
up
—
were
agreed
to
accept
Little
Dorrit
as
a
matter
of
course
,
she
had
nothing
for
it
but
to
follow
suit
.
Similarly
,
if
the
two
clever
ones
had
agreed
to
murder
Little
Dorrit
by
candlelight
,
Mrs
Affery
,
being
required
to
hold
the
candle
,
would
no
doubt
have
done
it
.
In
the
intervals
of
roasting
the
partridge
for
the
invalid
chamber
,
and
preparing
a
baking
-
dish
of
beef
and
pudding
for
the
dining
-
room
,
Mrs
Affery
made
the
communications
above
set
forth
;
invariably
putting
her
head
in
at
the
door
again
after
she
had
taken
it
out
,
to
enforce
resistance
to
the
two
clever
ones
.
It
appeared
to
have
become
a
perfect
passion
with
Mrs
Flintwinch
,
that
the
only
son
should
be
pitted
against
them
.
In
the
course
of
the
day
,
too
,
Arthur
looked
through
the
whole
house
.
Dull
and
dark
he
found
it
.
The
gaunt
rooms
,
deserted
for
years
upon
years
,
seemed
to
have
settled
down
into
a
gloomy
lethargy
from
which
nothing
could
rouse
them
again
.
The
furniture
,
at
once
spare
and
lumbering
,
hid
in
the
rooms
rather
than
furnished
them
,
and
there
was
no
colour
in
all
the
house
;
such
colour
as
had
ever
been
there
,
had
long
ago
started
away
on
lost
sunbeams
—
got
itself
absorbed
,
perhaps
,
into
flowers
,
butterflies
,
plumage
of
birds
,
precious
stones
,
what
not
.
There
was
not
one
straight
floor
from
the
foundation
to
the
roof
;
the
ceilings
were
so
fantastically
clouded
by
smoke
and
dust
,
that
old
women
might
have
told
fortunes
in
them
better
than
in
grouts
of
tea
;
the
dead
-
cold
hearths
showed
no
traces
of
having
ever
been
warmed
but
in
heaps
of
soot
that
had
tumbled
down
the
chimneys
,
and
eddied
about
in
little
dusky
whirlwinds
when
the
doors
were
opened
.
In
what
had
once
been
a
drawing
-
room
,
there
were
a
pair
of
meagre
mirrors
,
with
dismal
processions
of
black
figures
carrying
black
garlands
,
walking
round
the
frames
;
but
even
these
were
short
of
heads
and
legs
,
and
one
undertaker
-
like
Cupid
had
swung
round
on
its
own
axis
and
got
upside
down
,
and
another
had
fallen
off
altogether
.
The
room
Arthur
Clennam
’
s
deceased
father
had
occupied
for
business
purposes
,
when
he
first
remembered
him
,
was
so
unaltered
that
he
might
have
been
imagined
still
to
keep
it
invisibly
,
as
his
visible
relict
kept
her
room
up
-
stairs
;
Jeremiah
Flintwinch
still
going
between
them
negotiating
.
His
picture
,
dark
and
gloomy
,
earnestly
speechless
on
the
wall
,
with
the
eyes
intently
looking
at
his
son
as
they
had
looked
when
life
departed
from
them
,
seemed
to
urge
him
awfully
to
the
task
he
had
attempted
;
but
as
to
any
yielding
on
the
part
of
his
mother
,
he
had
now
no
hope
,
and
as
to
any
other
means
of
setting
his
distrust
at
rest
,
he
had
abandoned
hope
a
long
time
.
Down
in
the
cellars
,
as
up
in
the
bed
-
chambers
,
old
objects
that
he
well
remembered
were
changed
by
age
and
decay
,
but
were
still
in
their
old
places
;
even
to
empty
beer
-
casks
hoary
with
cobwebs
,
and
empty
wine
-
bottles
with
fur
and
fungus
choking
up
their
throats
.
There
,
too
,
among
unusual
bottle
-
racks
and
pale
slants
of
light
from
the
yard
above
,
was
the
strong
room
stored
with
old
ledgers
,
which
had
as
musty
and
corrupt
a
smell
as
if
they
were
regularly
balanced
,
in
the
dead
small
hours
,
by
a
nightly
resurrection
of
old
book
-
keepers
.
The
baking
-
dish
was
served
up
in
a
penitential
manner
on
a
shrunken
cloth
at
an
end
of
the
dining
-
table
,
at
two
o
’
clock
,
when
he
dined
with
Mr
Flintwinch
,
the
new
partner
.
Mr
Flintwinch
informed
him
that
his
mother
had
recovered
her
equanimity
now
,
and
that
he
need
not
fear
her
again
alluding
to
what
had
passed
in
the
morning
.
‘
And
don
’
t
you
lay
offences
at
your
father
’
s
door
,
Mr
Arthur
,
’
added
Jeremiah
,
‘
once
for
all
,
don
’
t
do
it
!
Now
,
we
have
done
with
the
subject
.
’
Mr
Flintwinch
had
been
already
rearranging
and
dusting
his
own
particular
little
office
,
as
if
to
do
honour
to
his
accession
to
new
dignity
.
He
resumed
this
occupation
when
he
was
replete
with
beef
,
had
sucked
up
all
the
gravy
in
the
baking
-
dish
with
the
flat
of
his
knife
,
and
had
drawn
liberally
on
a
barrel
of
small
beer
in
the
scullery
.
Thus
refreshed
,
he
tucked
up
his
shirt
-
sleeves
and
went
to
work
again
;
and
Mr
Arthur
,
watching
him
as
he
set
about
it
,
plainly
saw
that
his
father
’
s
picture
,
or
his
father
’
s
grave
,
would
be
as
communicative
with
him
as
this
old
man
.
‘
Now
,
Affery
,
woman
,
’
said
Mr
Flintwinch
,
as
she
crossed
the
hall
.
‘
You
hadn
’
t
made
Mr
Arthur
’
s
bed
when
I
was
up
there
last
.
Stir
yourself
.
Bustle
.
’
But
Mr
Arthur
found
the
house
so
blank
and
dreary
,
and
was
so
unwilling
to
assist
at
another
implacable
consignment
of
his
mother
’
s
enemies
(
perhaps
himself
among
them
)
to
mortal
disfigurement
and
immortal
ruin
,
that
he
announced
his
intention
of
lodging
at
the
coffee
-
house
where
he
had
left
his
luggage
.
Mr
Flintwinch
taking
kindly
to
the
idea
of
getting
rid
of
him
,
and
his
mother
being
indifferent
,
beyond
considerations
of
saving
,
to
most
domestic
arrangements
that
were
not
bounded
by
the
walls
of
her
own
chamber
,
he
easily
carried
this
point
without
new
offence
.
Daily
business
hours
were
agreed
upon
,
which
his
mother
,
Mr
Flintwinch
,
and
he
,
were
to
devote
together
to
a
necessary
checking
of
books
and
papers
;
and
he
left
the
home
he
had
so
lately
found
,
with
depressed
heart
.