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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 122/859
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‘
Ha
!
ha
!
’
replied
Jingle
;
and
then
he
added
,
with
a
knowing
wink
,
and
a
jerk
of
the
thumb
towards
the
interior
of
the
chaise
—
‘
I
say
—
she
’
s
very
well
—
desires
her
compliments
—
begs
you
won
’
t
trouble
yourself
—
love
to
TUPPY
—
won
’
t
you
get
up
behind
?
—
drive
on
,
boys
.
’
The
postillions
resumed
their
proper
attitudes
,
and
away
rattled
the
chaise
,
Mr
.
Jingle
fluttering
in
derision
a
white
handkerchief
from
the
coach
window
.
Nothing
in
the
whole
adventure
,
not
even
the
upset
,
had
disturbed
the
calm
and
equable
current
of
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
temper
.
The
villainy
,
however
,
which
could
first
borrow
money
of
his
faithful
follower
,
and
then
abbreviate
his
name
to
‘
Tuppy
,
’
was
more
than
he
could
patiently
bear
.
He
drew
his
breath
hard
,
and
coloured
up
to
the
very
tips
of
his
spectacles
,
as
he
said
,
slowly
and
emphatically
—
‘
If
ever
I
meet
that
man
again
,
I
’
ll
—
’
‘
Yes
,
yes
,
’
interrupted
Wardle
,
‘
that
’
s
all
very
well
;
but
while
we
stand
talking
here
,
they
’
ll
get
their
licence
,
and
be
married
in
London
.
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
paused
,
bottled
up
his
vengeance
,
and
corked
it
down
.
‘
How
far
is
it
to
the
next
stage
?
’
inquired
Mr
.
Wardle
,
of
one
of
the
boys
.
‘
Six
mile
,
ain
’
t
it
,
Tom
?
’
‘
Rayther
better
.
’
‘
Rayther
better
nor
six
mile
,
Sir
’
