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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 134/859
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‘
Who
is
he
,
you
scoundrel
,
’
interposed
Wardle
.
‘
He
’
s
my
lawyer
,
Mr
.
Perker
,
of
Gray
’
s
Inn
.
Perker
,
I
’
ll
have
this
fellow
prosecuted
—
indicted
—
I
’
ll
—
I
’
ll
—
I
’
ll
ruin
him
.
And
you
,
’
continued
Mr
.
Wardle
,
turning
abruptly
round
to
his
sister
—
‘
you
,
Rachael
,
at
a
time
of
life
when
you
ought
to
know
better
,
what
do
you
mean
by
running
away
with
a
vagabond
,
disgracing
your
family
,
and
making
yourself
miserable
?
Get
on
your
bonnet
and
come
back
.
Call
a
hackney
-
coach
there
,
directly
,
and
bring
this
lady
’
s
bill
,
d
’
ye
hear
—
d
’
ye
hear
?
’
‘
Cert
’
nly
,
Sir
,
’
replied
Sam
,
who
had
answered
Wardle
’
s
violent
ringing
of
the
bell
with
a
degree
of
celerity
which
must
have
appeared
marvellous
to
anybody
who
didn
’
t
know
that
his
eye
had
been
applied
to
the
outside
of
the
keyhole
during
the
whole
interview
.
‘
Get
on
your
bonnet
,
’
repeated
Wardle
.
‘
Do
nothing
of
the
kind
,
’
said
Jingle
.
‘
Leave
the
room
,
Sir
—
no
business
here
—
lady
’
s
free
to
act
as
she
pleases
—
more
than
one
-
and
-
twenty
.
’
‘
More
than
one
-
and
-
twenty
!
’
ejaculated
Wardle
contemptuously
.
‘
More
than
one
-
and
-
forty
!
’
‘
I
ain
’
t
,
’
said
the
spinster
aunt
,
her
indignation
getting
the
better
of
her
determination
to
faint
.
‘
You
are
,
’
replied
Wardle
;
‘
you
’
re
fifty
if
you
’
re
an
hour
.
’
Here
the
spinster
aunt
uttered
a
loud
shriek
,
and
became
senseless
.
‘
A
glass
of
water
,
’
said
the
humane
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
summoning
the
landlady
.
‘
A
glass
of
water
!
’
said
the
passionate
Wardle
.
‘
Bring
a
bucket
,
and
throw
it
all
over
her
;
it
’
ll
do
her
good
,
and
she
richly
deserves
it
.
’