-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 128/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
Dear
man
!
’
said
the
spinster
,
as
the
door
closed
after
him
.
‘
Rum
old
girl
,
’
said
Mr
.
Jingle
,
as
he
walked
down
the
passage
.
It
is
painful
to
reflect
upon
the
perfidy
of
our
species
;
and
we
will
not
,
therefore
,
pursue
the
thread
of
Mr
.
Jingle
’
s
meditations
,
as
he
wended
his
way
to
Doctors
’
Commons
.
It
will
be
sufficient
for
our
purpose
to
relate
,
that
escaping
the
snares
of
the
dragons
in
white
aprons
,
who
guard
the
entrance
to
that
enchanted
region
,
he
reached
the
vicar
-
general
’
s
office
in
safety
and
having
procured
a
highly
flattering
address
on
parchment
,
from
the
Archbishop
of
Canterbury
,
to
his
‘
trusty
and
well
-
beloved
Alfred
Jingle
and
Rachael
Wardle
,
greeting
,
’
he
carefully
deposited
the
mystic
document
in
his
pocket
,
and
retraced
his
steps
in
triumph
to
the
Borough
.
He
was
yet
on
his
way
to
the
White
Hart
,
when
two
plump
gentleman
and
one
thin
one
entered
the
yard
,
and
looked
round
in
search
of
some
authorised
person
of
whom
they
could
make
a
few
inquiries
.
Mr
.
Samuel
Weller
happened
to
be
at
that
moment
engaged
in
burnishing
a
pair
of
painted
tops
,
the
personal
property
of
a
farmer
who
was
refreshing
himself
with
a
slight
lunch
of
two
or
three
pounds
of
cold
beef
and
a
pot
or
two
of
porter
,
after
the
fatigues
of
the
Borough
market
;
and
to
him
the
thin
gentleman
straightway
advanced
.
‘
My
friend
,
’
said
the
thin
gentleman
.
‘
You
’
re
one
o
’
the
adwice
gratis
order
,
’
thought
Sam
,
‘
or
you
wouldn
’
t
be
so
wery
fond
o
’
me
all
at
once
.
’
But
he
only
said
—
‘
Well
,
Sir
.
’
‘
My
friend
,
’
said
the
thin
gentleman
,
with
a
conciliatory
hem
—
‘
have
you
got
many
people
stopping
here
now
?
Pretty
busy
.
Eh
?
’
Sam
stole
a
look
at
the
inquirer
.
He
was
a
little
high
-
dried
man
,
with
a
dark
squeezed
-
up
face
,
and
small
,
restless
,
black
eyes
,
that
kept
winking
and
twinkling
on
each
side
of
his
little
inquisitive
nose
,
as
if
they
were
playing
a
perpetual
game
of
peep
-
bo
with
that
feature
.
He
was
dressed
all
in
black
,
with
boots
as
shiny
as
his
eyes
,
a
low
white
neckcloth
,
and
a
clean
shirt
with
a
frill
to
it
.
A
gold
watch
-
chain
,
and
seals
,
depended
from
his
fob
.
He
carried
his
black
kid
gloves
IN
his
hands
,
and
not
ON
them
;
and
as
he
spoke
,
thrust
his
wrists
beneath
his
coat
tails
,
with
the
air
of
a
man
who
was
in
the
habit
of
propounding
some
regular
posers
.
‘
Pretty
busy
,
eh
?
’
said
the
little
man
.