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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 676/761
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‘
Me
!
’
he
at
length
said
aloud
.
‘
Ah
!
’
groaned
Young
John
.
‘
You
!
’
He
did
what
he
could
to
muster
a
smile
,
and
returned
,
‘
Your
fancy
.
You
are
completely
mistaken
.
’
‘
I
mistaken
,
sir
!
’
said
Young
John
.
‘
I
completely
mistaken
on
that
subject
!
No
,
Mr
Clennam
,
don
’
t
tell
me
so
.
On
any
other
,
if
you
like
,
for
I
don
’
t
set
up
to
be
a
penetrating
character
,
and
am
well
aware
of
my
own
deficiencies
.
But
,
I
mistaken
on
a
point
that
has
caused
me
more
smart
in
my
breast
than
a
flight
of
savages
’
arrows
could
have
done
!
I
mistaken
on
a
point
that
almost
sent
me
into
my
grave
,
as
I
sometimes
wished
it
would
,
if
the
grave
could
only
have
been
made
compatible
with
the
tobacco
-
business
and
father
and
mother
’
s
feelings
!
I
mistaken
on
a
point
that
,
even
at
the
present
moment
,
makes
me
take
out
my
pocket
-
handkerchief
like
a
great
girl
,
as
people
say
:
though
I
am
sure
I
don
’
t
know
why
a
great
girl
should
be
a
term
of
reproach
,
for
every
rightly
constituted
male
mind
loves
‘
em
great
and
small
.
Don
’
t
tell
me
so
,
don
’
t
tell
me
so
!
’
Still
highly
respectable
at
bottom
,
though
absurd
enough
upon
the
surface
,
Young
John
took
out
his
pocket
-
handkerchief
with
a
genuine
absence
both
of
display
and
concealment
,
which
is
only
to
be
seen
in
a
man
with
a
great
deal
of
good
in
him
,
when
he
takes
out
his
pocket
-
handkerchief
for
the
purpose
of
wiping
his
eyes
.
Having
dried
them
,
and
indulged
in
the
harmless
luxury
of
a
sob
and
a
sniff
,
he
put
it
up
again
.
The
touch
was
still
in
its
influence
so
like
a
blow
that
Arthur
could
not
get
many
words
together
to
close
the
subject
with
.
He
assured
John
Chivery
when
he
had
returned
his
handkerchief
to
his
pocket
,
that
he
did
all
honour
to
his
disinterestedness
and
to
the
fidelity
of
his
remembrance
of
Miss
Dorrit
.
As
to
the
impression
on
his
mind
,
of
which
he
had
just
relieved
it
—
here
John
interposed
,
and
said
,
‘
No
impression
!
Certainty
!
’
—
as
to
that
,
they
might
perhaps
speak
of
it
at
another
time
,
but
would
say
no
more
now
.
Feeling
low
-
spirited
and
weary
,
he
would
go
back
to
his
room
,
with
John
’
s
leave
,
and
come
out
no
more
that
night
.
John
assented
,
and
he
crept
back
in
the
shadow
of
the
wall
to
his
own
lodging
.
The
feeling
of
the
blow
was
still
so
strong
upon
him
that
,
when
the
dirty
old
woman
was
gone
whom
he
found
sitting
on
the
stairs
outside
his
door
,
waiting
to
make
his
bed
,
and
who
gave
him
to
understand
while
doing
it
,
that
she
had
received
her
instructions
from
Mr
Chivery
,
‘
not
the
old
‘
un
but
the
young
‘
un
,
’
he
sat
down
in
the
faded
arm
-
chair
,
pressing
his
head
between
his
hands
,
as
if
he
had
been
stunned
.
Little
Dorrit
love
him
!
More
bewildering
to
him
than
his
misery
,
far
.
Consider
the
improbability
.
He
had
been
accustomed
to
call
her
his
child
,
and
his
dear
child
,
and
to
invite
her
confidence
by
dwelling
upon
the
difference
in
their
respective
ages
,
and
to
speak
of
himself
as
one
who
was
turning
old
.
Yet
she
might
not
have
thought
him
old
.
Something
reminded
him
that
he
had
not
thought
himself
so
,
until
the
roses
had
floated
away
upon
the
river
.
