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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 145/435
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"
Then
it
must
be
a
shilling
,
"
observed
the
coachman
.
"
I
don
’
t
want
to
get
into
trouble
.
I
know
him
!
"
He
darkly
closed
an
eye
at
Mr
.
Jaggers
’
s
name
,
and
shook
his
head
.
When
he
had
got
his
shilling
,
and
had
in
course
of
time
completed
the
ascent
to
his
box
,
and
had
got
away
(
which
appeared
to
relieve
his
mind
)
,
I
went
into
the
front
office
with
my
little
portmanteau
in
my
hand
and
asked
,
Was
Mr
.
Jaggers
at
home
?
"
He
is
not
,
"
returned
the
clerk
.
"
He
is
in
Court
at
present
.
Am
I
addressing
Mr
.
Pip
?
"
I
signified
that
he
was
addressing
Mr
.
Pip
.
"
Mr
.
Jaggers
left
word
,
would
you
wait
in
his
room
.
He
couldn
’
t
say
how
long
he
might
be
,
having
a
case
on
.
But
it
stands
to
reason
,
his
time
being
valuable
,
that
he
won
’
t
be
longer
than
he
can
help
.
"
With
those
words
,
the
clerk
opened
a
door
,
and
ushered
me
into
an
inner
chamber
at
the
back
.
Here
,
we
found
a
gentleman
with
one
eye
,
in
a
velveteen
suit
and
knee
-
breeches
,
who
wiped
his
nose
with
his
sleeve
on
being
interrupted
in
the
perusal
of
the
newspaper
.
"
Go
and
wait
outside
,
Mike
,
"
said
the
clerk
.
I
began
to
say
that
I
hoped
I
was
not
interrupting
,
when
the
clerk
shoved
this
gentleman
out
with
as
little
ceremony
as
I
ever
saw
used
,
and
tossing
his
fur
cap
out
after
him
,
left
me
alone
.
Mr
.
Jaggers
’
s
room
was
lighted
by
a
skylight
only
,
and
was
a
most
dismal
place
;
the
skylight
,
eccentrically
pitched
like
a
broken
head
,
and
the
distorted
adjoining
houses
looking
as
if
they
had
twisted
themselves
to
peep
down
at
me
through
it
.
There
were
not
so
many
papers
about
,
as
I
should
have
expected
to
see
;
and
there
were
some
odd
objects
about
,
that
I
should
not
have
expected
to
see
—
such
as
an
old
rusty
pistol
,
a
sword
in
a
scabbard
,
several
strange
-
looking
boxes
and
packages
,
and
two
dreadful
casts
on
a
shelf
,
of
faces
peculiarly
swollen
,
and
twitchy
about
the
nose
.
Mr
.
Jaggers
’
s
own
high
-
backed
chair
was
of
deadly
black
horsehair
,
with
rows
of
brass
nails
round
it
,
like
a
coffin
;
and
I
fancied
I
could
see
how
he
leaned
back
in
it
,
and
bit
his
forefinger
at
the
clients
.
The
room
was
but
small
,
and
the
clients
seemed
to
have
had
a
habit
of
backing
up
against
the
wall
;
the
wall
,
especially
opposite
to
Mr
.
Jaggers
’
s
chair
,
being
greasy
with
shoulders
.
I
recalled
,
too
,
that
the
one
-
eyed
gentleman
had
shuffled
forth
against
the
wall
when
I
was
the
innocent
cause
of
his
being
turned
out
.
