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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Крошка Доррит
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- Стр. 98/761
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‘
It
would
be
a
new
distress
to
him
even
to
know
that
I
earn
a
little
money
,
and
that
Fanny
earns
a
little
money
.
He
is
so
anxious
about
us
,
you
see
,
feeling
helplessly
shut
up
there
.
Such
a
good
,
good
father
!
’
He
let
the
little
burst
of
feeling
go
by
before
he
spoke
.
It
was
soon
gone
.
She
was
not
accustomed
to
think
of
herself
,
or
to
trouble
any
one
with
her
emotions
.
He
had
but
glanced
away
at
the
piles
of
city
roofs
and
chimneys
among
which
the
smoke
was
rolling
heavily
,
and
at
the
wilderness
of
masts
on
the
river
,
and
the
wilderness
of
steeples
on
the
shore
,
indistinctly
mixed
together
in
the
stormy
haze
,
when
she
was
again
as
quiet
as
if
she
had
been
plying
her
needle
in
his
mother
’
s
room
.
‘
You
would
be
glad
to
have
your
brother
set
at
liberty
?
’
‘
Oh
very
,
very
glad
,
sir
!
’
‘
Well
,
we
will
hope
for
him
at
least
.
You
told
me
last
night
of
a
friend
you
had
?
’
His
name
was
Plornish
,
Little
Dorrit
said
.
And
where
did
Plornish
live
?
Plornish
lived
in
Bleeding
Heart
Yard
.
He
was
‘
only
a
plasterer
,
’
Little
Dorrit
said
,
as
a
caution
to
him
not
to
form
high
social
expectations
of
Plornish
.
He
lived
at
the
last
house
in
Bleeding
Heart
Yard
,
and
his
name
was
over
a
little
gateway
.
Arthur
took
down
the
address
and
gave
her
his
.
He
had
now
done
all
he
sought
to
do
for
the
present
,
except
that
he
wished
to
leave
her
with
a
reliance
upon
him
,
and
to
have
something
like
a
promise
from
her
that
she
would
cherish
it
.
‘
There
is
one
friend
!
’
he
said
,
putting
up
his
pocketbook
.
‘
As
I
take
you
back
—
you
are
going
back
?
’
‘
Oh
yes
!
going
straight
home
.
’
