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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 598/761
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‘
So
Pancks
said
,
’
he
murmured
to
himself
,
as
he
stopped
before
a
dull
house
answering
to
the
address
.
‘
I
suppose
his
information
to
be
correct
and
his
discovery
,
among
Mr
Casby
’
s
loose
papers
,
indisputable
;
but
,
without
it
,
I
should
hardly
have
supposed
this
to
be
a
likely
place
.
’
A
dead
sort
of
house
,
with
a
dead
wall
over
the
way
and
a
dead
gateway
at
the
side
,
where
a
pendant
bell
-
handle
produced
two
dead
tinkles
,
and
a
knocker
produced
a
dead
,
flat
,
surface
-
tapping
,
that
seemed
not
to
have
depth
enough
in
it
to
penetrate
even
the
cracked
door
.
However
,
the
door
jarred
open
on
a
dead
sort
of
spring
;
and
he
closed
it
behind
him
as
he
entered
a
dull
yard
,
soon
brought
to
a
close
by
another
dead
wall
,
where
an
attempt
had
been
made
to
train
some
creeping
shrubs
,
which
were
dead
;
and
to
make
a
little
fountain
in
a
grotto
,
which
was
dry
;
and
to
decorate
that
with
a
little
statue
,
which
was
gone
.
The
entry
to
the
house
was
on
the
left
,
and
it
was
garnished
as
the
outer
gateway
was
,
with
two
printed
bills
in
French
and
English
,
announcing
Furnished
Apartments
to
let
,
with
immediate
possession
.
A
strong
cheerful
peasant
woman
,
all
stocking
,
petticoat
,
white
cap
,
and
ear
-
ring
,
stood
here
in
a
dark
doorway
,
and
said
with
a
pleasant
show
of
teeth
,
‘
Ice
-
say
!
Seer
!
Who
?
’
Clennam
,
replying
in
French
,
said
the
English
lady
;
he
wished
to
see
the
English
lady
.
‘
Enter
then
and
ascend
,
if
you
please
,
’
returned
the
peasant
woman
,
in
French
likewise
.
He
did
both
,
and
followed
her
up
a
dark
bare
staircase
to
a
back
room
on
the
first
-
floor
.
Hence
,
there
was
a
gloomy
view
of
the
yard
that
was
dull
,
and
of
the
shrubs
that
were
dead
,
and
of
the
fountain
that
was
dry
,
and
of
the
pedestal
of
the
statue
that
was
gone
.
‘
Monsieur
Blandois
,
’
said
Clennam
.
‘
With
pleasure
,
Monsieur
.
’
Thereupon
the
woman
withdrew
and
left
him
to
look
at
the
room
.
It
was
the
pattern
of
room
always
to
be
found
in
such
a
house
.
Cool
,
dull
,
and
dark
.
Waxed
floor
very
slippery
.
A
room
not
large
enough
to
skate
in
;
nor
adapted
to
the
easy
pursuit
of
any
other
occupation
.
Red
and
white
curtained
windows
,
little
straw
mat
,
little
round
table
with
a
tumultuous
assemblage
of
legs
underneath
,
clumsy
rush
-
bottomed
chairs
,
two
great
red
velvet
arm
-
chairs
affording
plenty
of
space
to
be
uncomfortable
in
,
bureau
,
chimney
-
glass
in
several
pieces
pretending
to
be
in
one
piece
,
pair
of
gaudy
vases
of
very
artificial
flowers
;
between
them
a
Greek
warrior
with
his
helmet
off
,
sacrificing
a
clock
to
the
Genius
of
France
.
After
some
pause
,
a
door
of
communication
with
another
room
was
opened
,
and
a
lady
entered
.
She
manifested
great
surprise
on
seeing
Clennam
,
and
her
glance
went
round
the
room
in
search
of
some
one
else
.
‘
Pardon
me
,
Miss
Wade
.
I
am
alone
.
’
