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Главная
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- Авторы
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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 183/459
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As
he
spoke
he
drew
a
chair
to
the
table
;
and
the
other
three
closing
round
it
at
the
same
time
,
the
game
commenced
.
The
child
sat
by
,
and
watched
its
progress
with
a
troubled
mind
.
Regardless
of
the
run
of
luck
,
and
mindful
only
of
the
desperate
passion
which
had
its
hold
upon
her
grandfather
,
losses
and
gains
were
to
her
alike
.
Exulting
in
some
brief
triumph
,
or
cast
down
by
a
defeat
,
there
he
sat
so
wild
and
restless
,
so
feverishly
and
intensely
anxious
,
so
terribly
eager
,
so
ravenous
for
the
paltry
stakes
,
that
she
could
have
almost
better
borne
to
see
him
dead
And
yet
she
was
the
innocent
cause
of
all
this
torture
,
and
he
,
gambling
with
such
a
savage
thirst
for
gain
as
the
most
insatiable
gambler
never
felt
,
had
not
one
selfish
thought
!
On
the
contrary
,
the
other
three
—
knaves
and
gamesters
by
their
trade
—
while
intent
upon
their
game
,
were
yet
as
cool
and
quiet
as
if
every
virtue
had
been
centered
in
their
breasts
.
Sometimes
one
would
look
up
to
smile
to
another
,
or
to
snuff
the
feeble
candle
,
or
to
glance
at
the
lightning
as
it
shot
through
the
open
window
and
fluttering
curtain
,
or
to
listen
to
some
louder
peal
of
thunder
than
the
rest
,
with
a
kind
of
momentary
impatience
,
as
if
it
put
him
out
;
but
there
they
sat
,
with
a
calm
indifference
to
everything
but
their
cards
,
perfect
philosophers
in
appearance
,
and
with
no
greater
show
of
passion
or
excitement
than
if
they
had
been
made
of
stone
.
The
storm
had
raged
for
full
three
hours
;
the
lightning
had
grown
fainter
and
less
frequent
;
the
thunder
,
from
seeming
to
roll
and
break
above
their
heads
,
had
gradually
died
away
into
a
deep
hoarse
distance
;
and
still
the
game
went
on
,
and
still
the
anxious
child
was
quite
forgotten
.
At
length
the
play
came
to
an
end
,
and
Mr
Isaac
List
rose
the
only
winner
.
Mat
and
the
landlord
bore
their
losses
with
professional
fortitude
.
Isaac
pocketed
his
gains
with
the
air
of
a
man
who
had
quite
made
up
his
mind
to
win
,
all
along
,
and
was
neither
surprised
nor
pleased
.
Nell
’
s
little
purse
was
exhausted
;
but
although
it
lay
empty
by
his
side
,
and
the
other
players
had
now
risen
from
the
table
,
the
old
man
sat
poring
over
the
cards
,
dealing
them
as
they
had
been
dealt
before
,
and
turning
up
the
different
hands
to
see
what
each
man
would
have
held
if
they
had
still
been
playing
.
He
was
quite
absorbed
in
this
occupation
,
when
the
child
drew
near
and
laid
her
hand
upon
his
shoulder
,
telling
him
it
was
near
midnight
.
‘
See
the
curse
of
poverty
,
Nell
,
’
he
said
,
pointing
to
the
packs
he
had
spread
out
upon
the
table
.
‘
If
I
could
have
gone
on
a
little
longer
,
only
a
little
longer
,
the
luck
would
have
turned
on
my
side
.
Yes
,
it
’
s
as
plain
as
the
marks
upon
the
cards
.
See
here
—
and
there
—
and
here
again
.
’
‘
Put
them
away
,
’
urged
the
child
.
‘
Try
to
forget
them
.
’
‘
Try
to
forget
them
!
’
he
rejoined
,
raising
his
haggard
face
to
hers
,
and
regarding
her
with
an
incredulous
stare
.
‘
To
forget
them
!
How
are
we
ever
to
grow
rich
if
I
forget
them
?
’
