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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 133/859
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‘
Here
it
is
,
’
whispered
the
attorney
,
as
he
deposited
the
money
on
the
hand
of
their
guide
.
The
man
stepped
forward
for
a
few
paces
,
followed
by
the
two
friends
and
their
legal
adviser
.
He
stopped
at
a
door
.
‘
Is
this
the
room
?
’
murmured
the
little
gentleman
.
Sam
nodded
assent
.
Old
Wardle
opened
the
door
;
and
the
whole
three
walked
into
the
room
just
as
Mr
.
Jingle
,
who
had
that
moment
returned
,
had
produced
the
licence
to
the
spinster
aunt
.
The
spinster
uttered
a
loud
shriek
,
and
throwing
herself
into
a
chair
,
covered
her
face
with
her
hands
.
Mr
.
Jingle
crumpled
up
the
licence
,
and
thrust
it
into
his
coat
pocket
.
The
unwelcome
visitors
advanced
into
the
middle
of
the
room
.
‘
You
—
you
are
a
nice
rascal
,
arn
’
t
you
?
’
exclaimed
Wardle
,
breathless
with
passion
.
‘
My
dear
Sir
,
my
dear
sir
,
’
said
the
little
man
,
laying
his
hat
on
the
table
,
‘
pray
,
consider
—
pray
.
Defamation
of
character
:
action
for
damages
.
Calm
yourself
,
my
dear
sir
,
pray
—
’
‘
How
dare
you
drag
my
sister
from
my
house
?
’
said
the
old
man
.
Ay
—
ay
—
very
good
,
’
said
the
little
gentleman
,
‘
you
may
ask
that
.
How
dare
you
,
sir
?
—
eh
,
sir
?
’
‘
Who
the
devil
are
you
?
’
inquired
Mr
.
Jingle
,
in
so
fierce
a
tone
,
that
the
little
gentleman
involuntarily
fell
back
a
step
or
two
.
