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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 693/761
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‘
Perhaps
,
my
friend
,
philosopher
,
man
of
virtue
,
Imbecile
,
what
you
will
;
perhaps
,
’
said
Rigaud
,
pausing
in
his
drink
to
look
out
of
his
glass
with
his
horrible
smile
,
‘
you
would
have
done
better
to
leave
me
alone
?
’
‘
No
!
At
least
,
’
said
Clennam
,
‘
you
are
known
to
be
alive
and
unharmed
.
At
least
you
cannot
escape
from
these
two
witnesses
;
and
they
can
produce
you
before
any
public
authorities
,
or
before
hundreds
of
people
!
’
‘
But
will
not
produce
me
before
one
,
’
said
Rigaud
,
snapping
his
fingers
again
with
an
air
of
triumphant
menace
.
‘
To
the
Devil
with
your
witnesses
!
To
the
Devil
with
your
produced
!
To
the
Devil
with
yourself
!
What
!
Do
I
know
what
I
know
,
for
that
?
Have
I
my
commodity
on
sale
,
for
that
?
Bah
,
poor
debtor
!
You
have
interrupted
my
little
project
.
Let
it
pass
.
How
then
?
What
remains
?
To
you
,
nothing
;
to
me
,
all
.
Produce
me
!
Is
that
what
you
want
?
I
will
produce
myself
,
only
too
quickly
.
Contrabandist
!
Give
me
pen
,
ink
,
and
paper
.
’
Cavalletto
got
up
again
as
before
,
and
laid
them
before
him
in
his
former
manner
.
Rigaud
,
after
some
villainous
thinking
and
smiling
,
wrote
,
and
read
aloud
,
as
follows
:
‘
To
MRS
CLENNAM
.
‘
Wait
answer
.
‘
Prison
of
the
Marshalsea
.
‘
At
the
apartment
of
your
son
.
‘
Dear
Madam
,
‘
I
am
in
despair
to
be
informed
to
-
day
by
our
prisoner
here
(
who
has
had
the
goodness
to
employ
spies
to
seek
me
,
living
for
politic
reasons
in
retirement
)
,
that
you
have
had
fears
for
my
safety
.
‘
Reassure
yourself
,
dear
madam
.
I
am
well
,
I
am
strong
and
constant
.
