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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 379/459
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‘
Where
to
,
Sir
?
’
asked
Kit
.
The
man
contented
himself
by
briefly
replying
‘
Wisitors
;
’
and
taking
him
by
the
arm
in
exactly
the
same
manner
as
the
constable
had
done
the
day
before
,
led
him
,
through
several
winding
ways
and
strong
gates
,
into
a
passage
,
where
he
placed
him
at
a
grating
and
turned
upon
his
heel
.
Beyond
this
grating
,
at
the
distance
of
about
four
or
five
feet
,
was
another
exactly
like
it
.
In
the
space
between
,
sat
a
turnkey
reading
a
newspaper
,
and
outside
the
further
railing
,
Kit
saw
,
with
a
palpitating
heart
,
his
mother
with
the
baby
in
her
arms
;
Barbara
’
s
mother
with
her
never
-
failing
umbrella
;
and
poor
little
Jacob
,
staring
in
with
all
his
might
,
as
though
he
were
looking
for
the
bird
,
or
the
wild
beast
,
and
thought
the
men
were
mere
accidents
with
whom
the
bars
could
have
no
possible
concern
.
But
when
little
Jacob
saw
his
brother
,
and
,
thrusting
his
arms
between
the
rails
to
hug
him
,
found
that
he
came
no
nearer
,
but
still
stood
afar
off
with
his
head
resting
on
the
arm
by
which
he
held
to
one
of
the
bars
,
he
began
to
cry
most
piteously
;
whereupon
,
Kit
’
s
mother
and
Barbara
’
s
mother
,
who
had
restrained
themselves
as
much
as
possible
,
burst
out
sobbing
and
weeping
afresh
.
Poor
Kit
could
not
help
joining
them
,
and
not
one
of
them
could
speak
a
word
.
During
this
melancholy
pause
,
the
turnkey
read
his
newspaper
with
a
waggish
look
(
he
had
evidently
got
among
the
facetious
paragraphs
)
until
,
happening
to
take
his
eyes
off
for
an
instant
,
as
if
to
get
by
dint
of
contemplation
at
the
very
marrow
of
some
joke
of
a
deeper
sort
than
the
rest
,
it
appeared
to
occur
to
him
,
for
the
first
time
,
that
somebody
was
crying
.
‘
Now
,
ladies
,
ladies
,
’
he
said
,
looking
round
with
surprise
,
‘
I
’
d
advise
you
not
to
waste
time
like
this
.
It
’
s
allowanced
here
,
you
know
.
You
mustn
’
t
let
that
child
make
that
noise
either
.
It
’
s
against
all
rules
.
’
‘
I
’
m
his
poor
mother
,
sir
,
’
—
sobbed
Mrs
Nubbles
,
curtseying
humbly
,
‘
and
this
is
his
brother
,
sir
.
Oh
dear
me
,
dear
me
!
’
‘
Well
!
’
replied
the
turnkey
,
folding
his
paper
on
his
knee
,
so
as
to
get
with
greater
convenience
at
the
top
of
the
next
column
.
‘
It
can
’
t
be
helped
you
know
.
He
ain
’
t
the
only
one
in
the
same
fix
.
You
mustn
’
t
make
a
noise
about
it
!
’
With
that
he
went
on
reading
.
The
man
was
not
unnaturally
cruel
or
hard
-
hearted
.
He
had
come
to
look
upon
felony
as
a
kind
of
disorder
,
like
the
scarlet
fever
or
erysipelas
:
some
people
had
it
—
some
hadn
’
t
—
just
as
it
might
be
.
‘
Oh
!
my
darling
Kit
,
’
said
his
mother
,
whom
Barbara
’
s
mother
had
charitably
relieved
of
the
baby
,
‘
that
I
should
see
my
poor
boy
here
!
’
‘
You
don
’
t
believe
that
I
did
what
they
accuse
me
of
,
mother
dear
?
’
cried
Kit
,
in
a
choking
voice
.
