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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 675/761
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‘
He
says
What
!
And
what
is
more
,
’
exclaimed
Young
John
,
surveying
him
in
a
doleful
maze
,
‘
he
appears
to
mean
it
!
Do
you
see
this
window
,
sir
?
’
‘
Of
course
I
see
this
window
.
’
‘
See
this
room
?
’
‘
Why
,
of
course
I
see
this
room
.
’
‘
That
wall
opposite
,
and
that
yard
down
below
?
They
have
all
been
witnesses
of
it
,
from
day
to
day
,
from
night
to
night
,
from
week
to
week
,
from
month
to
month
.
For
how
often
have
I
seen
Miss
Dorrit
here
when
she
has
not
seen
me
!
’
‘
Witnesses
of
what
?
’
said
Clennam
.
‘
Of
Miss
Dorrit
’
s
love
.
’
‘
For
whom
?
’
‘
You
,
’
said
John
.
And
touched
him
with
the
back
of
his
hand
upon
the
breast
,
and
backed
to
his
chair
,
and
sat
down
on
it
with
a
pale
face
,
holding
the
arms
,
and
shaking
his
head
at
him
.
If
he
had
dealt
Clennam
a
heavy
blow
,
instead
of
laying
that
light
touch
upon
him
,
its
effect
could
not
have
been
to
shake
him
more
.
He
stood
amazed
;
his
eyes
looking
at
John
;
his
lips
parted
,
and
seeming
now
and
then
to
form
the
word
‘
Me
!
’
without
uttering
it
;
his
hands
dropped
at
his
sides
;
his
whole
appearance
that
of
a
man
who
has
been
awakened
from
sleep
,
and
stupefied
by
intelligence
beyond
his
full
comprehension
.
