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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 732/761
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‘
Not
in
that
posture
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
.
‘
It
is
unnatural
to
see
your
grey
hair
lower
than
mine
.
Pray
rise
;
let
me
help
you
.
’
With
that
she
raised
her
up
,
and
stood
rather
shrinking
from
her
,
but
looking
at
her
earnestly
.
‘
The
great
petition
that
I
make
to
you
(
there
is
another
which
grows
out
of
it
)
,
the
great
supplication
that
I
address
to
your
merciful
and
gentle
heart
,
is
,
that
you
will
not
disclose
this
to
Arthur
until
I
am
dead
.
If
you
think
,
when
you
have
had
time
for
consideration
,
that
it
can
do
him
any
good
to
know
it
while
I
am
yet
alive
,
then
tell
him
.
But
you
will
not
think
that
;
and
in
such
case
,
will
you
promise
me
to
spare
me
until
I
am
dead
?
’
‘
I
am
so
sorry
,
and
what
I
have
read
has
so
confused
my
thoughts
,
’
returned
Little
Dorrit
,
‘
that
I
can
scarcely
give
you
a
steady
answer
.
If
I
should
be
quite
sure
that
to
be
acquainted
with
it
will
do
Mr
Clennam
no
good
—
’
‘
I
know
you
are
attached
to
him
,
and
will
make
him
the
first
consideration
.
It
is
right
that
he
should
be
the
first
consideration
.
I
ask
that
.
But
,
having
regarded
him
,
and
still
finding
that
you
may
spare
me
for
the
little
time
I
shall
remain
on
earth
,
will
you
do
it
?
’
‘
I
will
.
’
‘
GOD
bless
you
!
’
She
stood
in
the
shadow
so
that
she
was
only
a
veiled
form
to
Little
Dorrit
in
the
light
;
but
the
sound
of
her
voice
,
in
saying
those
three
grateful
words
,
was
at
once
fervent
and
broken
—
broken
by
emotion
as
unfamiliar
to
her
frozen
eyes
as
action
to
her
frozen
limbs
.
‘
You
will
wonder
,
perhaps
,
’
she
said
in
a
stronger
tone
,
‘
that
I
can
better
bear
to
be
known
to
you
whom
I
have
wronged
,
than
to
the
son
of
my
enemy
who
wronged
me
.
—
For
she
did
wrong
me
!
She
not
only
sinned
grievously
against
the
Lord
,
but
she
wronged
me
.
What
Arthur
’
s
father
was
to
me
,
she
made
him
.
From
our
marriage
day
I
was
his
dread
,
and
that
she
made
me
.
I
was
the
scourge
of
both
,
and
that
is
referable
to
her
.
You
love
Arthur
(
I
can
see
the
blush
upon
your
face
;
may
it
be
the
dawn
of
happier
days
to
both
of
you
!
)
,
and
you
will
have
thought
already
that
he
is
as
merciful
and
kind
as
you
,
and
why
do
I
not
trust
myself
to
him
as
soon
as
to
you
.
Have
you
not
thought
so
?
’
‘
No
thought
,
’
said
Little
Dorrit
,
‘
can
be
quite
a
stranger
to
my
heart
,
that
springs
out
of
the
knowledge
that
Mr
Clennam
is
always
to
be
relied
upon
for
being
kind
and
generous
and
good
.
’
