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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 155/435
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He
led
me
into
a
corner
and
conducted
me
up
a
flight
of
stairs
—
which
appeared
to
me
to
be
slowly
collapsing
into
sawdust
,
so
that
one
of
those
days
the
upper
lodgers
would
look
out
at
their
doors
and
find
themselves
without
the
means
of
coming
down
—
to
a
set
of
chambers
on
the
top
floor
.
MR
.
POCKET
,
JUN
.
,
was
painted
on
the
door
,
and
there
was
a
label
on
the
letter
-
box
,
"
Return
shortly
.
"
"
He
hardly
thought
you
’
d
come
so
soon
,
"
Mr
.
Wemmick
explained
.
"
You
don
’
t
want
me
any
more
?
"
"
No
,
thank
you
,
"
said
I
.
"
As
I
keep
the
cash
,
"
Mr
.
Wemmick
observed
,
"
we
shall
most
likely
meet
pretty
often
.
Good
day
.
"
"
Good
day
.
"
I
put
out
my
hand
,
and
Mr
.
Wemmick
at
first
looked
at
it
as
if
he
thought
I
wanted
something
.
Then
he
looked
at
me
,
and
said
,
correcting
himself
—
"
To
be
sure
!
Yes
.
You
’
re
in
the
habit
of
shaking
hands
?
"
I
was
rather
confused
,
thinking
it
must
be
out
of
the
London
fashion
,
but
said
yes
.
"
I
have
got
so
out
of
it
!
"
said
Mr
.
Wemmick
—
"
except
at
last
.
Very
glad
,
I
’
m
sure
,
to
make
your
acquaintance
.
Good
day
!
"
