-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Лавка древностей
-
- Стр. 159/459
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
We
shall
never
forget
it
,
sir
,
’
rejoined
Nell
;
‘
nor
ever
forget
to
be
grateful
to
you
for
your
kindness
to
us
.
’
‘
I
have
heard
such
words
from
the
lips
of
children
very
often
,
’
said
the
schoolmaster
,
shaking
his
head
,
and
smiling
thoughtfully
,
‘
but
they
were
soon
forgotten
.
I
had
attached
one
young
friend
to
me
,
the
better
friend
for
being
young
—
but
that
’
s
over
—
God
bless
you
!
’
They
bade
him
farewell
very
many
times
,
and
turned
away
,
walking
slowly
and
often
looking
back
,
until
they
could
see
him
no
more
.
At
length
they
had
left
the
village
far
behind
,
and
even
lost
sight
of
the
smoke
among
the
trees
.
They
trudged
onward
now
,
at
a
quicker
pace
,
resolving
to
keep
the
main
road
,
and
go
wherever
it
might
lead
them
.
But
main
roads
stretch
a
long
,
long
way
.
With
the
exception
of
two
or
three
inconsiderable
clusters
of
cottages
which
they
passed
,
without
stopping
,
and
one
lonely
road
-
side
public
-
house
where
they
had
some
bread
and
cheese
,
this
highway
had
led
them
to
nothing
—
late
in
the
afternoon
—
and
still
lengthened
out
,
far
in
the
distance
,
the
same
dull
,
tedious
,
winding
course
,
that
they
had
been
pursuing
all
day
.
As
they
had
no
resource
,
however
,
but
to
go
forward
,
they
still
kept
on
,
though
at
a
much
slower
pace
,
being
very
weary
and
fatigued
.
The
afternoon
had
worn
away
into
a
beautiful
evening
,
when
they
arrived
at
a
point
where
the
road
made
a
sharp
turn
and
struck
across
a
common
.
On
the
border
of
this
common
,
and
close
to
the
hedge
which
divided
it
from
the
cultivated
fields
,
a
caravan
was
drawn
up
to
rest
;
upon
which
,
by
reason
of
its
situation
,
they
came
so
suddenly
that
they
could
not
have
avoided
it
if
they
would
.
It
was
not
a
shabby
,
dingy
,
dusty
cart
,
but
a
smart
little
house
upon
wheels
,
with
white
dimity
curtains
festooning
the
windows
,
and
window
-
shutters
of
green
picked
out
with
panels
of
a
staring
red
,
in
which
happily
-
contrasted
colours
the
whole
concern
shone
brilliant
.
Neither
was
it
a
poor
caravan
drawn
by
a
single
donkey
or
emaciated
horse
,
for
a
pair
of
horses
in
pretty
good
condition
were
released
from
the
shafts
and
grazing
on
the
frouzy
grass
.
Neither
was
it
a
gipsy
caravan
,
for
at
the
open
door
(
graced
with
a
bright
brass
knocker
)
sat
a
Christian
lady
,
stout
and
comfortable
to
look
upon
,
who
wore
a
large
bonnet
trembling
with
bows
.
And
that
it
was
not
an
unprovided
or
destitute
caravan
was
clear
from
this
lady
’
s
occupation
,
which
was
the
very
pleasant
and
refreshing
one
of
taking
tea
.
The
tea
-
things
,
including
a
bottle
of
rather
suspicious
character
and
a
cold
knuckle
of
ham
,
were
set
forth
upon
a
drum
,
covered
with
a
white
napkin
;
and
there
,
as
if
at
the
most
convenient
round
-
table
in
all
the
world
,
sat
this
roving
lady
,
taking
her
tea
and
enjoying
the
prospect
.
It
happened
that
at
that
moment
the
lady
of
the
caravan
had
her
cup
(
which
,
that
everything
about
her
might
be
of
a
stout
and
comfortable
kind
,
was
a
breakfast
cup
)
to
her
lips
,
and
that
having
her
eyes
lifted
to
the
sky
in
her
enjoyment
of
the
full
flavour
of
the
tea
,
not
unmingled
possibly
with
just
the
slightest
dash
or
gleam
of
something
out
of
the
suspicious
bottle
—
but
this
is
mere
speculation
and
not
distinct
matter
of
history
—
it
happened
that
being
thus
agreeably
engaged
,
she
did
not
see
the
travellers
when
they
first
came
up
.
It
was
not
until
she
was
in
the
act
of
getting
down
the
cup
,
and
drawing
a
long
breath
after
the
exertion
of
causing
its
contents
to
disappear
,
that
the
lady
of
the
caravan
beheld
an
old
man
and
a
young
child
walking
slowly
by
,
and
glancing
at
her
proceedings
with
eyes
of
modest
but
hungry
admiration
.
‘
Hey
!
’
cried
the
lady
of
the
caravan
,
scooping
the
crumbs
out
of
her
lap
and
swallowing
the
same
before
wiping
her
lips
.