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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 270/459
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A
penny
loaf
was
all
they
had
had
that
day
.
It
was
very
little
,
but
even
hunger
was
forgotten
in
the
strange
tranquillity
that
crept
over
her
senses
.
She
lay
down
,
very
gently
,
and
,
with
a
quiet
smile
upon
her
face
,
fell
into
a
slumber
.
It
was
not
like
sleep
—
and
yet
it
must
have
been
,
or
why
those
pleasant
dreams
of
the
little
scholar
all
night
long
!
Morning
came
.
Much
weaker
,
diminished
powers
even
of
sight
and
hearing
,
and
yet
the
child
made
no
complaint
—
perhaps
would
have
made
none
,
even
if
she
had
not
had
that
inducement
to
be
silent
,
travelling
by
her
side
.
She
felt
a
hopelessness
of
their
ever
being
extricated
together
from
that
forlorn
place
;
a
dull
conviction
that
she
was
very
ill
,
perhaps
dying
;
but
no
fear
or
anxiety
.
A
loathing
of
food
that
she
was
not
conscious
of
until
they
expended
their
last
penny
in
the
purchase
of
another
loaf
,
prevented
her
partaking
even
of
this
poor
repast
.
Her
grandfather
ate
greedily
,
which
she
was
glad
to
see
.
Their
way
lay
through
the
same
scenes
as
yesterday
,
with
no
variety
or
improvement
.
There
was
the
same
thick
air
,
difficult
to
breathe
;
the
same
blighted
ground
,
the
same
hopeless
prospect
,
the
same
misery
and
distress
.
Objects
appeared
more
dim
,
the
noise
less
,
the
path
more
rugged
and
uneven
,
for
sometimes
she
stumbled
,
and
became
roused
,
as
it
were
,
in
the
effort
to
prevent
herself
from
falling
.
Poor
child
!
the
cause
was
in
her
tottering
feet
.
Towards
the
afternoon
,
her
grandfather
complained
bitterly
of
hunger
.
She
approached
one
of
the
wretched
hovels
by
the
way
-
side
,
and
knocked
with
her
hand
upon
the
door
.
‘
What
would
you
have
here
?
’
said
a
gaunt
man
,
opening
it
.
‘
Charity
.
A
morsel
of
bread
.
’
‘
Do
you
see
that
?
’
returned
the
man
hoarsely
,
pointing
to
a
kind
of
bundle
on
the
ground
.
‘
That
’
s
a
dead
child
.
I
and
five
hundred
other
men
were
thrown
out
of
work
,
three
months
ago
.
That
is
my
third
dead
child
,
and
last
.
Do
you
think
I
have
charity
to
bestow
,
or
a
morsel
of
bread
to
spare
?
’
The
child
recoiled
from
the
door
,
and
it
closed
upon
her
.
Impelled
by
strong
necessity
,
she
knocked
at
another
:
a
neighbouring
one
,
which
,
yielding
to
the
slight
pressure
of
her
hand
,
flew
open
.
It
seemed
that
a
couple
of
poor
families
lived
in
this
hovel
,
for
two
women
,
each
among
children
of
her
own
,
occupied
different
portions
of
the
room
.
In
the
centre
,
stood
a
grave
gentleman
in
black
who
appeared
to
have
just
entered
,
and
who
held
by
the
arm
a
boy
.
