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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 302/859
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‘
Winter
came
,
and
with
it
weeks
of
cold
and
heavy
rain
.
The
poor
girl
had
removed
to
a
wretched
apartment
close
to
the
spot
of
her
husband
’
s
imprisonment
;
and
though
the
change
had
been
rendered
necessary
by
their
increasing
poverty
,
she
was
happier
now
,
for
she
was
nearer
him
.
For
two
months
,
she
and
her
little
companion
watched
the
opening
of
the
gate
as
usual
.
One
day
she
failed
to
come
,
for
the
first
time
.
Another
morning
arrived
,
and
she
came
alone
.
The
child
was
dead
.
‘
They
little
know
,
who
coldly
talk
of
the
poor
man
’
s
bereavements
,
as
a
happy
release
from
pain
to
the
departed
,
and
a
merciful
relief
from
expense
to
the
survivor
—
they
little
know
,
I
say
,
what
the
agony
of
those
bereavements
is
.
A
silent
look
of
affection
and
regard
when
all
other
eyes
are
turned
coldly
away
—
the
consciousness
that
we
possess
the
sympathy
and
affection
of
one
being
when
all
others
have
deserted
us
—
is
a
hold
,
a
stay
,
a
comfort
,
in
the
deepest
affliction
,
which
no
wealth
could
purchase
,
or
power
bestow
.
The
child
had
sat
at
his
parents
’
feet
for
hours
together
,
with
his
little
hands
patiently
folded
in
each
other
,
and
his
thin
wan
face
raised
towards
them
.
They
had
seen
him
pine
away
,
from
day
to
day
;
and
though
his
brief
existence
had
been
a
joyless
one
,
and
he
was
now
removed
to
that
peace
and
rest
which
,
child
as
he
was
,
he
had
never
known
in
this
world
,
they
were
his
parents
,
and
his
loss
sank
deep
into
their
souls
.
‘
It
was
plain
to
those
who
looked
upon
the
mother
’
s
altered
face
,
that
death
must
soon
close
the
scene
of
her
adversity
and
trial
.
Her
husband
’
s
fellow
-
prisoners
shrank
from
obtruding
on
his
grief
and
misery
,
and
left
to
himself
alone
,
the
small
room
he
had
previously
occupied
in
common
with
two
companions
.
She
shared
it
with
him
;
and
lingering
on
without
pain
,
but
without
hope
,
her
life
ebbed
slowly
away
.
‘
She
had
fainted
one
evening
in
her
husband
’
s
arms
,
and
he
had
borne
her
to
the
open
window
,
to
revive
her
with
the
air
,
when
the
light
of
the
moon
falling
full
upon
her
face
,
showed
him
a
change
upon
her
features
,
which
made
him
stagger
beneath
her
weight
,
like
a
helpless
infant
.
‘
"
Set
me
down
,
George
,
"
she
said
faintly
.
He
did
so
,
and
seating
himself
beside
her
,
covered
his
face
with
his
hands
,
and
burst
into
tears
.
‘
"
It
is
very
hard
to
leave
you
,
George
,
"
she
said
;
"
but
it
is
God
’
s
will
,
and
you
must
bear
it
for
my
sake
.
Oh
!
how
I
thank
Him
for
having
taken
our
boy
!
He
is
happy
,
and
in
heaven
now
.
What
would
he
have
done
here
,
without
his
mother
!
"
‘
"
You
shall
not
die
,
Mary
,
you
shall
not
die
;
"
said
the
husband
,
starting
up
.
He
paced
hurriedly
to
and
fro
,
striking
his
head
with
his
clenched
fists
;
then
reseating
himself
beside
her
,
and
supporting
her
in
his
arms
,
added
more
calmly
,
"
Rouse
yourself
,
my
dear
girl
.
Pray
,
pray
do
.
You
will
revive
yet
.
"
‘
"
Never
again
,
George
;
never
again
,
"
said
the
dying
woman
.
"
Let
them
lay
me
by
my
poor
boy
now
,
but
promise
me
,
that
if
ever
you
leave
this
dreadful
place
,
and
should
grow
rich
,
you
will
have
us
removed
to
some
quiet
country
churchyard
,
a
long
,
long
way
off
—
very
far
from
here
—
where
we
can
rest
in
peace
.
Dear
George
,
promise
me
you
will
.
"
