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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 89/761
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The
morning
light
was
in
no
hurry
to
climb
the
prison
wall
and
look
in
at
the
Snuggery
windows
;
and
when
it
did
come
,
it
would
have
been
more
welcome
if
it
had
come
alone
,
instead
of
bringing
a
rush
of
rain
with
it
.
But
the
equinoctial
gales
were
blowing
out
at
sea
,
and
the
impartial
south
-
west
wind
,
in
its
flight
,
would
not
neglect
even
the
narrow
Marshalsea
.
While
it
roared
through
the
steeple
of
St
George
’
s
Church
,
and
twirled
all
the
cowls
in
the
neighbourhood
,
it
made
a
swoop
to
beat
the
Southwark
smoke
into
the
jail
;
and
,
plunging
down
the
chimneys
of
the
few
early
collegians
who
were
yet
lighting
their
fires
,
half
suffocated
them
.
Arthur
Clennam
would
have
been
little
disposed
to
linger
in
bed
,
though
his
bed
had
been
in
a
more
private
situation
,
and
less
affected
by
the
raking
out
of
yesterday
’
s
fire
,
the
kindling
of
to
-
day
’
s
under
the
collegiate
boiler
,
the
filling
of
that
Spartan
vessel
at
the
pump
,
the
sweeping
and
sawdusting
of
the
common
room
,
and
other
such
preparations
.
Heartily
glad
to
see
the
morning
,
though
little
rested
by
the
night
,
he
turned
out
as
soon
as
he
could
distinguish
objects
about
him
,
and
paced
the
yard
for
two
heavy
hours
before
the
gate
was
opened
.
The
walls
were
so
near
to
one
another
,
and
the
wild
clouds
hurried
over
them
so
fast
,
that
it
gave
him
a
sensation
like
the
beginning
of
sea
-
sickness
to
look
up
at
the
gusty
sky
.
The
rain
,
carried
aslant
by
flaws
of
wind
,
blackened
that
side
of
the
central
building
which
he
had
visited
last
night
,
but
left
a
narrow
dry
trough
under
the
lee
of
the
wall
,
where
he
walked
up
and
down
among
the
waits
of
straw
and
dust
and
paper
,
the
waste
droppings
of
the
pump
,
and
the
stray
leaves
of
yesterday
’
s
greens
.
It
was
as
haggard
a
view
of
life
as
a
man
need
look
upon
.
Nor
was
it
relieved
by
any
glimpse
of
the
little
creature
who
had
brought
him
there
.
Perhaps
she
glided
out
of
her
doorway
and
in
at
that
where
her
father
lived
,
while
his
face
was
turned
from
both
;
but
he
saw
nothing
of
her
.
It
was
too
early
for
her
brother
;
to
have
seen
him
once
,
was
to
have
seen
enough
of
him
to
know
that
he
would
be
sluggish
to
leave
whatever
frowsy
bed
he
occupied
at
night
;
so
,
as
Arthur
Clennam
walked
up
and
down
,
waiting
for
the
gate
to
open
,
he
cast
about
in
his
mind
for
future
rather
than
for
present
means
of
pursuing
his
discoveries
.
At
last
the
lodge
-
gate
turned
,
and
the
turnkey
,
standing
on
the
step
,
taking
an
early
comb
at
his
hair
,
was
ready
to
let
him
out
.
With
a
joyful
sense
of
release
he
passed
through
the
lodge
,
and
found
himself
again
in
the
little
outer
court
-
yard
where
he
had
spoken
to
the
brother
last
night
.
There
was
a
string
of
people
already
straggling
in
,
whom
it
was
not
difficult
to
identify
as
the
nondescript
messengers
,
go
-
betweens
,
and
errand
-
bearers
of
the
place
.
Some
of
them
had
been
lounging
in
the
rain
until
the
gate
should
open
;
others
,
who
had
timed
their
arrival
with
greater
nicety
,
were
coming
up
now
,
and
passing
in
with
damp
whitey
-
brown
paper
bags
from
the
grocers
,
loaves
of
bread
,
lumps
of
butter
,
eggs
,
milk
,
and
the
like
.
The
shabbiness
of
these
attendants
upon
shabbiness
,
the
poverty
of
these
insolvent
waiters
upon
insolvency
,
was
a
sight
to
see
.
Such
threadbare
coats
and
trousers
,
such
fusty
gowns
and
shawls
,
such
squashed
hats
and
bonnets
,
such
boots
and
shoes
,
such
umbrellas
and
walking
-
sticks
,
never
were
seen
in
Rag
Fair
.
All
of
them
wore
the
cast
-
off
clothes
of
other
men
and
women
,
were
made
up
of
patches
and
pieces
of
other
people
’
s
individuality
,
and
had
no
sartorial
existence
of
their
own
proper
.
Their
walk
was
the
walk
of
a
race
apart
.
They
had
a
peculiar
way
of
doggedly
slinking
round
the
corner
,
as
if
they
were
eternally
going
to
the
pawnbroker
’
s
.
When
they
coughed
,
they
coughed
like
people
accustomed
to
be
forgotten
on
doorsteps
and
in
draughty
passages
,
waiting
for
answers
to
letters
in
faded
ink
,
which
gave
the
recipients
of
those
manuscripts
great
mental
disturbance
and
no
satisfaction
.
As
they
eyed
the
stranger
in
passing
,
they
eyed
him
with
borrowing
eyes
—
hungry
,
sharp
,
speculative
as
to
his
softness
if
they
were
accredited
to
him
,
and
the
likelihood
of
his
standing
something
handsome
.
Mendicity
on
commission
stooped
in
their
high
shoulders
,
shambled
in
their
unsteady
legs
,
buttoned
and
pinned
and
darned
and
dragged
their
clothes
,
frayed
their
button
-
holes
,
leaked
out
of
their
figures
in
dirty
little
ends
of
tape
,
and
issued
from
their
mouths
in
alcoholic
breathings
.
As
these
people
passed
him
standing
still
in
the
court
-
yard
,
and
one
of
them
turned
back
to
inquire
if
he
could
assist
him
with
his
services
,
it
came
into
Arthur
Clennam
’
s
mind
that
he
would
speak
to
Little
Dorrit
again
before
he
went
away
.
She
would
have
recovered
her
first
surprise
,
and
might
feel
easier
with
him
.
He
asked
this
member
of
the
fraternity
(
who
had
two
red
herrings
in
his
hand
,
and
a
loaf
and
a
blacking
brush
under
his
arm
)
,
where
was
the
nearest
place
to
get
a
cup
of
coffee
at
.
The
nondescript
replied
in
encouraging
terms
,
and
brought
him
to
a
coffee
-
shop
in
the
street
within
a
stone
’
s
throw
.
