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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Оливер Твист
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- Стр. 401/420
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But
it
was
pure
,
earnest
,
joyful
reality
.
They
drove
straight
to
the
door
of
the
chief
hotel
(
which
Oliver
used
to
stare
up
at
,
with
awe
,
and
think
a
mighty
palace
,
but
which
had
somehow
fallen
off
in
grandeur
and
size
)
;
and
here
was
Mr.
Grimwig
all
ready
to
receive
them
,
kissing
the
young
lady
,
and
the
old
one
too
,
when
they
got
out
of
the
coach
,
as
if
he
were
the
grandfather
of
the
whole
party
,
all
smiles
and
kindness
,
and
not
offering
to
eat
his
head
--
no
,
not
once
;
not
even
when
he
contradicted
a
very
old
postboy
about
the
nearest
road
to
London
,
and
maintained
he
knew
it
best
,
though
he
had
only
come
that
way
once
,
and
that
time
fast
asleep
.
There
was
dinner
prepared
,
and
there
were
bedrooms
ready
,
and
everything
was
arranged
as
if
by
magic
.
Notwithstanding
all
this
,
when
the
hurry
of
the
first
half-hour
was
over
,
the
same
silence
and
constraint
prevailed
that
had
marked
their
journey
down
.
Mr.
Brownlow
did
not
join
them
at
dinner
,
but
remained
in
a
separate
room
.
The
two
other
gentlemen
hurried
in
and
out
with
anxious
faces
,
and
,
during
the
short
intervals
when
they
were
present
,
conversed
apart
.
Once
,
Mrs.
Maylie
was
called
away
,
and
after
being
absent
for
nearly
an
hour
,
returned
with
eyes
swollen
with
weeping
.
All
these
things
made
Rose
and
Oliver
,
who
were
not
in
any
new
secrets
,
nervous
and
uncomfortable
.
They
sat
wondering
,
in
silence
;
or
,
if
they
exchanged
a
few
words
,
spoke
in
whispers
,
as
if
they
were
afraid
to
hear
the
sound
of
their
own
voices
.
At
length
,
when
nine
o'clock
had
come
,
and
they
began
to
think
they
were
to
hear
no
more
that
night
,
Mr.
Losberne
and
Mr.
Grimwig
entered
the
room
,
followed
by
Mr.
Brownlow
and
a
man
whom
Oliver
almost
shrieked
with
surprise
to
see
;
for
they
told
him
it
was
his
brother
,
and
it
was
the
same
man
he
had
met
at
the
market-town
,
and
seen
looking
in
with
Fagin
at
the
window
of
his
little
room
.
Monks
cast
a
look
of
hate
,
which
,
even
then
,
he
could
not
dissemble
,
at
the
astonished
boy
,
and
sat
down
near
the
door
.
Mr.
Brownlow
,
who
had
papers
in
his
hand
,
walked
to
a
table
near
which
Rose
and
Oliver
were
seated
.
'
This
is
a
painful
task
,
'
said
he
,
'
but
these
declarations
,
which
have
been
signed
in
London
before
many
gentlemen
,
must
be
substance
repeated
here
.
I
would
have
spared
you
the
degradation
,
but
we
must
hear
them
from
your
own
lips
before
we
part
,
and
you
know
why
.
'
'
Go
on
,
'
said
the
person
addressed
,
turning
away
his
face
.
'
Quick
.
I
have
almost
done
enough
,
I
think
.
Do
n't
keep
me
here
.
'
'
This
child
,
'
said
Mr.
Brownlow
,
drawing
Oliver
to
him
,
and
laying
his
hand
upon
his
head
,
'
is
your
half-brother
;
the
illegitimate
son
of
your
father
,
my
dear
friend
Edwin
Leeford
,
by
poor
young
Agnes
Fleming
,
who
died
in
giving
him
birth
.
'
'
Yes
,
'
said
Monks
,
scowling
at
the
trembling
boy
:
the
beating
of
whose
heart
he
might
have
heard
.
'
That
is
the
bastard
child
.
'
'
The
term
you
use
,
'
said
Mr.
Brownlow
,
sternly
,
'
is
a
reproach
to
those
long
since
passed
beyong
the
feeble
censure
of
the
world
.
It
reflects
disgrace
on
no
one
living
,
except
you
who
use
it
.
Let
that
pass
.
He
was
born
in
this
town
.
'
