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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 245/459
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It
was
a
gloomy
autumn
evening
,
and
he
thought
the
old
place
had
never
looked
so
dismal
as
in
its
dreary
twilight
.
The
windows
broken
,
the
rusty
sashes
rattling
in
their
frames
,
the
deserted
house
a
dull
barrier
dividing
the
glaring
lights
and
bustle
of
the
street
into
two
long
lines
,
and
standing
in
the
midst
,
cold
,
dark
,
and
empty
—
presented
a
cheerless
spectacle
which
mingled
harshly
with
the
bright
prospects
the
boy
had
been
building
up
for
its
late
inmates
,
and
came
like
a
disappointment
or
misfortune
.
Kit
would
have
had
a
good
fire
roaring
up
the
empty
chimneys
,
lights
sparkling
and
shining
through
the
windows
,
people
moving
briskly
to
and
fro
,
voices
in
cheerful
conversation
,
something
in
unison
with
the
new
hopes
that
were
astir
.
He
had
not
expected
that
the
house
would
wear
any
different
aspect
—
had
known
indeed
that
it
could
not
—
but
coming
upon
it
in
the
midst
of
eager
thoughts
and
expectations
,
it
checked
the
current
in
its
flow
,
and
darkened
it
with
a
mournful
shadow
.
Kit
,
however
,
fortunately
for
himself
,
was
not
learned
enough
or
contemplative
enough
to
be
troubled
with
presages
of
evil
afar
off
,
and
,
having
no
mental
spectacles
to
assist
his
vision
in
this
respect
,
saw
nothing
but
the
dull
house
,
which
jarred
uncomfortably
upon
his
previous
thoughts
.
So
,
almost
wishing
that
he
had
not
passed
it
,
though
hardly
knowing
why
,
he
hurried
on
again
,
making
up
by
his
increased
speed
for
the
few
moments
he
had
lost
.
‘
Now
,
if
she
should
be
out
,
’
thought
Kit
,
as
he
approached
the
poor
dwelling
of
his
mother
,
‘
and
I
not
able
to
find
her
,
this
impatient
gentleman
would
be
in
a
pretty
taking
.
And
sure
enough
there
’
s
no
light
,
and
the
door
’
s
fast
.
Now
,
God
forgive
me
for
saying
so
,
but
if
this
is
Little
Bethel
’
s
doing
,
I
wish
Little
Bethel
was
—
was
farther
off
,
’
said
Kit
checking
himself
,
and
knocking
at
the
door
.
A
second
knock
brought
no
reply
from
within
the
house
;
but
caused
a
woman
over
the
way
to
look
out
and
inquire
who
that
was
,
awanting
Mrs
Nubbles
.
‘
Me
,
’
said
Kit
.
‘
She
’
s
at
—
at
Little
Bethel
,
I
suppose
?
’
—
getting
out
the
name
of
the
obnoxious
conventicle
with
some
reluctance
,
and
laying
a
spiteful
emphasis
upon
the
words
.
The
neighbour
nodded
assent
.
‘
Then
pray
tell
me
where
it
is
,
’
said
Kit
,
‘
for
I
have
come
on
a
pressing
matter
,
and
must
fetch
her
out
,
even
if
she
was
in
the
pulpit
.
’
It
was
not
very
easy
to
procure
a
direction
to
the
fold
in
question
,
as
none
of
the
neighbours
were
of
the
flock
that
resorted
thither
,
and
few
knew
anything
more
of
it
than
the
name
.
At
last
,
a
gossip
of
Mrs
Nubbles
’
s
,
who
had
accompanied
her
to
chapel
on
one
or
two
occasions
when
a
comfortable
cup
of
tea
had
preceded
her
devotions
,
furnished
the
needful
information
,
which
Kit
had
no
sooner
obtained
than
he
started
off
again
.
Little
Bethel
might
have
been
nearer
,
and
might
have
been
in
a
straighter
road
,
though
in
that
case
the
reverend
gentleman
who
presided
over
its
congregation
would
have
lost
his
favourite
allusion
to
the
crooked
ways
by
which
it
was
approached
,
and
which
enabled
him
to
liken
it
to
Paradise
itself
,
in
contradistinction
to
the
parish
church
and
the
broad
thoroughfare
leading
thereunto
.
Kit
found
it
,
at
last
,
after
some
trouble
,
and
pausing
at
the
door
to
take
breath
that
he
might
enter
with
becoming
decency
,
passed
into
the
chapel
.
