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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 679/761
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Happily
,
if
it
ever
had
been
so
,
it
was
over
,
and
better
over
Granted
that
she
had
loved
him
,
and
he
had
known
it
and
had
suffered
himself
to
love
her
,
what
a
road
to
have
led
her
away
upon
—
the
road
that
would
have
brought
her
back
to
this
miserable
place
!
He
ought
to
be
much
comforted
by
the
reflection
that
she
was
quit
of
it
forever
;
that
she
was
,
or
would
soon
be
,
married
(
vague
rumours
of
her
father
’
s
projects
in
that
direction
had
reached
Bleeding
Heart
Yard
,
with
the
news
of
her
sister
’
s
marriage
)
;
and
that
the
Marshalsea
gate
had
shut
for
ever
on
all
those
perplexed
possibilities
of
a
time
that
was
gone
.
Dear
Little
Dorrit
.
Looking
back
upon
his
own
poor
story
,
she
was
its
vanishing
-
point
.
Every
thing
in
its
perspective
led
to
her
innocent
figure
.
He
had
travelled
thousands
of
miles
towards
it
;
previous
unquiet
hopes
and
doubts
had
worked
themselves
out
before
it
;
it
was
the
centre
of
the
interest
of
his
life
;
it
was
the
termination
of
everything
that
was
good
and
pleasant
in
it
;
beyond
,
there
was
nothing
but
mere
waste
and
darkened
sky
.
As
ill
at
ease
as
on
the
first
night
of
his
lying
down
to
sleep
within
those
dreary
walls
,
he
wore
the
night
out
with
such
thoughts
.
What
time
Young
John
lay
wrapt
in
peaceful
slumber
,
after
composing
and
arranging
the
following
monumental
inscription
on
his
pillow
—
STRANGER
!
RESPECT
THE
TOMB
OF
JOHN
CHIVERY
,
JUNIOR
,
WHO
DIED
AT
AN
ADVANCED
AGE
NOT
NECESSARY
TO
MENTION
.
