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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 55/78
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'
No
,
'
said
a
great
fat
man
with
a
monstrous
chin
,
'
I
do
n't
know
much
about
it
,
either
way
.
I
only
know
he
's
dead
.
'
'
When
did
he
die
?
'
inquired
another
.
'
Last
night
,
I
believe
.
'
'
Why
,
what
was
the
matter
with
him
?
'
asked
a
third
,
taking
a
vast
quantity
of
snuff
out
of
a
very
large
snuff-box
.
'
I
thought
he
'd
never
die
.
'
'
God
knows
,
'
said
the
first
,
with
a
yawn
.
'
What
has
he
done
with
his
money
?
'
asked
a
red-faced
gentleman
with
a
pendulous
excrescence
on
the
end
of
his
nose
,
that
shook
like
the
gills
of
a
turkey-cock
.
'
I
have
n't
heard
,
'
said
the
man
with
the
large
chin
,
yawning
again
.
'
Left
it
to
his
company
,
perhaps
.
He
has
n't
left
it
to
me
.
That
's
all
I
know
.
'
This
pleasantry
was
received
with
a
general
laugh
.
'
It
's
likely
to
be
a
very
cheap
funeral
,
'
said
the
same
speaker
;
'
for
upon
my
life
I
do
n't
know
of
anybody
to
go
to
it
.
Suppose
we
make
up
a
party
and
volunteer
?
'
'
I
do
n't
mind
going
if
a
lunch
is
provided
,
'
observed
the
gentleman
with
the
excrescence
on
his
nose
.
'
But
I
must
be
fed
,
if
I
make
one
!
'
