Lingue

Tastiera

Pagina 491 di 896

Autore: Charles Dickens

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No man ever really loved a woman, lost her, and knew her with a
blameless though an unchanged mind, when she was a wife and a
mother, but her children had a strange sympathy with him--an
instinctive delicacy of pity for him. What fine hidden
sensibilities are touched in such a case, no echoes tell; but it
is so, and it was so here. Carton was the first stranger to whom
little Lucie held out her chubby arms, and he kept his place with
her as she grew. The little boy had spoken of him, almost at the
last. "Poor Carton! Kiss him for me!"

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