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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 111/859
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The
scene
of
that
afternoon
was
repeated
that
evening
,
and
on
the
three
afternoons
and
evenings
next
ensuing
.
On
the
fourth
,
the
host
was
in
high
spirits
,
for
he
had
satisfied
himself
that
there
was
no
ground
for
the
charge
against
Mr
.
Tupman
.
So
was
Mr
.
Tupman
,
for
Mr
.
Jingle
had
told
him
that
his
affair
would
soon
be
brought
to
a
crisis
.
So
was
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
for
he
was
seldom
otherwise
.
So
was
not
Mr
.
Snodgrass
,
for
he
had
grown
jealous
of
Mr
.
Tupman
.
So
was
the
old
lady
,
for
she
had
been
winning
at
whist
.
So
were
Mr
.
Jingle
and
Miss
Wardle
,
for
reasons
of
sufficient
importance
in
this
eventful
history
to
be
narrated
in
another
chapter
.
The
supper
was
ready
laid
,
the
chairs
were
drawn
round
the
table
,
bottles
,
jugs
,
and
glasses
were
arranged
upon
the
sideboard
,
and
everything
betokened
the
approach
of
the
most
convivial
period
in
the
whole
four
-
and
-
twenty
hours
.
‘
Where
’
s
Rachael
?
’
said
Mr
.
Wardle
.
‘
Ay
,
and
Jingle
?
’
added
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Dear
me
,
’
said
the
host
,
‘
I
wonder
I
haven
’
t
missed
him
before
.
Why
,
I
don
’
t
think
I
’
ve
heard
his
voice
for
two
hours
at
least
.
Emily
,
my
dear
,
ring
the
bell
.
’
The
bell
was
rung
,
and
the
fat
boy
appeared
.
‘
Where
’
s
Miss
Rachael
?
’
He
couldn
’
t
say
.
‘
Where
’
s
Mr
.
Jingle
,
then
?
’
He
didn
’
t
know
.
Everybody
looked
surprised
.
It
was
late
—
past
eleven
o
’
clock
.
Mr
.
Tupman
laughed
in
his
sleeve
.
They
were
loitering
somewhere
,
talking
about
him
.
Ha
,
ha
!
capital
notion
that
—
funny
.
‘
Never
mind
,
’
said
Wardle
,
after
a
short
pause
.
‘
They
’
ll
turn
up
presently
,
I
dare
say
.
I
never
wait
supper
for
anybody
.
’
‘
Excellent
rule
,
that
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
—
‘
admirable
.
’
‘
Pray
,
sit
down
,
’
said
the
host
.
