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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 577/761
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‘
How
dare
you
do
this
?
’
said
Mr
Dorrit
.
‘
How
do
you
presume
to
come
here
?
How
dare
you
insult
me
?
’
‘
I
insult
you
,
sir
?
’
cried
Young
John
.
‘
Oh
!
’
‘
Yes
,
sir
,
’
returned
Mr
Dorrit
.
‘
Insult
me
.
Your
coming
here
is
an
affront
,
an
impertinence
,
an
audacity
.
You
are
not
wanted
here
.
Who
sent
you
here
?
What
—
ha
—
the
Devil
do
you
do
here
?
’
‘
I
thought
,
sir
,
’
said
Young
John
,
with
as
pale
and
shocked
a
face
as
ever
had
been
turned
to
Mr
Dorrit
’
s
in
his
life
—
even
in
his
College
life
:
‘
I
thought
,
sir
,
you
mightn
’
t
object
to
have
the
goodness
to
accept
a
bundle
—
’
‘
Damn
your
bundle
,
sir
!
’
cried
Mr
Dorrit
,
in
irrepressible
rage
.
‘
I
—
hum
—
don
’
t
smoke
.
’
‘
I
humbly
beg
your
pardon
,
sir
.
You
used
to
.
’
‘
Tell
me
that
again
,
’
cried
Mr
Dorrit
,
quite
beside
himself
,
‘
and
I
’
ll
take
the
poker
to
you
!
’
John
Chivery
backed
to
the
door
.
‘
Stop
,
sir
!
’
cried
Mr
Dorrit
.
‘
Stop
!
Sit
down
.
Confound
you
sit
down
!
’
John
Chivery
dropped
into
the
chair
nearest
the
door
,
and
Mr
Dorrit
walked
up
and
down
the
room
;
rapidly
at
first
;
then
,
more
slowly
.
Once
,
he
went
to
the
window
,
and
stood
there
with
his
forehead
against
the
glass
.
All
of
a
sudden
,
he
turned
and
said
:
