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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 378/435
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"
Him
that
I
speak
of
,
"
said
the
landlord
.
"
Mr
.
Pumblechook
.
"
"
Is
he
ungrateful
to
no
one
else
?
"
"
No
doubt
he
would
be
,
if
he
could
,
"
returned
the
landlord
,
"
but
he
can
’
t
.
And
why
?
Because
Pumblechook
done
everything
for
him
.
"
"
Does
Pumblechook
say
so
?
"
"
Say
so
!
"
replied
the
landlord
.
"
He
han
’
t
no
call
to
say
so
.
"
"
But
does
he
say
so
?
"
"
It
would
turn
a
man
’
s
blood
to
white
wine
winegar
to
hear
him
tell
of
it
,
sir
,
"
said
the
landlord
.
I
thought
,
"
Yet
Joe
,
dear
Joe
,
you
never
tell
of
it
.
Long
-
suffering
and
loving
Joe
,
you
never
complain
Nor
you
,
sweet
-
tempered
Biddy
!
"
"
Your
appetite
’
s
been
touched
like
by
your
accident
,
"
said
the
landlord
,
glancing
at
the
bandaged
arm
under
my
coat
.
"
Try
a
tenderer
bit
.
"
