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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 222/459
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‘
It
’
s
of
no
use
asking
the
dragon
,
’
thought
Dick
one
day
,
as
he
sat
contemplating
the
features
of
Miss
Sally
Brass
.
‘
I
suspect
if
I
asked
any
questions
on
that
head
,
our
alliance
would
be
at
an
end
.
I
wonder
whether
she
is
a
dragon
by
-
the
-
bye
,
or
something
in
the
mermaid
way
.
She
has
rather
a
scaly
appearance
.
But
mermaids
are
fond
of
looking
at
themselves
in
the
glass
,
which
she
can
’
t
be
.
And
they
have
a
habit
of
combing
their
hair
,
which
she
hasn
’
t
.
No
,
she
’
s
a
dragon
.
’
‘
Where
are
you
going
,
old
fellow
?
’
said
Dick
aloud
,
as
Miss
Sally
wiped
her
pen
as
usual
on
the
green
dress
,
and
uprose
from
her
seat
.
‘
To
dinner
,
’
answered
the
dragon
.
‘
To
dinner
!
’
thought
Dick
,
‘
that
’
s
another
circumstance
.
I
don
’
t
believe
that
small
servant
ever
has
anything
to
eat
.
’
‘
Sammy
won
’
t
be
home
,
’
said
Miss
Brass
.
‘
Stop
till
I
come
back
.
I
sha
’
n
’
t
be
long
.
’
Dick
nodded
,
and
followed
Miss
Brass
—
with
his
eyes
to
the
door
,
and
with
his
ears
to
a
little
back
parlour
,
where
she
and
her
brother
took
their
meals
.
‘
Now
,
’
said
Dick
,
walking
up
and
down
with
his
hands
in
his
pockets
,
‘
I
’
d
give
something
—
if
I
had
it
—
to
know
how
they
use
that
child
,
and
where
they
keep
her
.
My
mother
must
have
been
a
very
inquisitive
woman
;
I
have
no
doubt
I
’
m
marked
with
a
note
of
interrogation
somewhere
.
My
feelings
I
smother
,
but
thou
hast
been
the
cause
of
this
anguish
,
my
—
upon
my
word
,
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
,
checking
himself
and
falling
thoughtfully
into
the
client
’
s
chair
,
‘
I
should
like
to
know
how
they
use
her
!
’
After
running
on
,
in
this
way
,
for
some
time
,
Mr
Swiveller
softly
opened
the
office
door
,
with
the
intention
of
darting
across
the
street
for
a
glass
of
the
mild
porter
.
At
that
moment
he
caught
a
parting
glimpse
of
the
brown
head
-
dress
of
Miss
Brass
flitting
down
the
kitchen
stairs
.
‘
And
by
Jove
!
’
thought
Dick
,
‘
she
’
s
going
to
feed
the
small
servant
.
Now
or
never
!
’
First
peeping
over
the
handrail
and
allowing
the
head
-
dress
to
disappear
in
the
darkness
below
,
he
groped
his
way
down
,
and
arrived
at
the
door
of
a
back
kitchen
immediately
after
Miss
Brass
had
entered
the
same
,
bearing
in
her
hand
a
cold
leg
of
mutton
.
It
was
a
very
dark
miserable
place
,
very
low
and
very
damp
:
the
walls
disfigured
by
a
thousand
rents
and
blotches
.
The
water
was
trickling
out
of
a
leaky
butt
,
and
a
most
wretched
cat
was
lapping
up
the
drops
with
the
sickly
eagerness
of
starvation
.
The
grate
,
which
was
a
wide
one
,
was
wound
and
screwed
up
tight
,
so
as
to
hold
no
more
than
a
little
thin
sandwich
of
fire
.
Everything
was
locked
up
;
the
coal
-
cellar
,
the
candle
-
box
,
the
salt
-
box
,
the
meat
-
safe
,
were
all
padlocked
.
There
was
nothing
that
a
beetle
could
have
lunched
upon
.
The
pinched
and
meagre
aspect
of
the
place
would
have
killed
a
chameleon
.
He
would
have
known
,
at
the
first
mouthful
,
that
the
air
was
not
eatable
,
and
must
have
given
up
the
ghost
in
despair
.