-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 140/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
Be
quiet
,
Perker
,
’
resumed
Wardle
.
‘
Leave
the
room
,
Sir
.
’
‘
Off
directly
,
’
said
the
unabashed
Jingle
.
‘
Bye
bye
,
Pickwick
.
’
If
any
dispassionate
spectator
could
have
beheld
the
countenance
of
the
illustrious
man
,
whose
name
forms
the
leading
feature
of
the
title
of
this
work
,
during
the
latter
part
of
this
conversation
,
he
would
have
been
almost
induced
to
wonder
that
the
indignant
fire
which
flashed
from
his
eyes
did
not
melt
the
glasses
of
his
spectacles
—
so
majestic
was
his
wrath
.
His
nostrils
dilated
,
and
his
fists
clenched
involuntarily
,
as
he
heard
himself
addressed
by
the
villain
.
But
he
restrained
himself
again
—
he
did
not
pulverise
him
.
‘
Here
,
’
continued
the
hardened
traitor
,
tossing
the
licence
at
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
feet
;
‘
get
the
name
altered
—
take
home
the
lady
—
do
for
Tuppy
.
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
was
a
philosopher
,
but
philosophers
are
only
men
in
armour
,
after
all
.
The
shaft
had
reached
him
,
penetrated
through
his
philosophical
harness
,
to
his
very
heart
In
the
frenzy
of
his
rage
,
he
hurled
the
inkstand
madly
forward
,
and
followed
it
up
himself
.
But
Mr
.
Jingle
had
disappeared
,
and
he
found
himself
caught
in
the
arms
of
Sam
.
‘
Hollo
,
’
said
that
eccentric
functionary
,
‘
furniter
’
s
cheap
where
you
come
from
,
Sir
.
Self
-
acting
ink
,
that
‘
ere
;
it
’
s
wrote
your
mark
upon
the
wall
,
old
gen
’
l
’
m
’
n
.
Hold
still
,
Sir
;
wot
’
s
the
use
o
’
runnin
’
arter
a
man
as
has
made
his
lucky
,
and
got
to
t
’
other
end
of
the
Borough
by
this
time
?
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
mind
,
like
those
of
all
truly
great
men
,
was
open
to
conviction
.
He
was
a
quick
and
powerful
reasoner
;
and
a
moment
’
s
reflection
sufficed
to
remind
him
of
the
impotency
of
his
rage
.
It
subsided
as
quickly
as
it
had
been
roused
.
He
panted
for
breath
,
and
looked
benignantly
round
upon
his
friends
.
Shall
we
tell
the
lamentations
that
ensued
when
Miss
Wardle
found
herself
deserted
by
the
faithless
Jingle
?
Shall
we
extract
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
masterly
description
of
that
heartrending
scene
?
His
note
-
book
,
blotted
with
the
tears
of
sympathising
humanity
,
lies
open
before
us
;
one
word
,
and
it
is
in
the
printer
’
s
hands
.
But
,
no
!
we
will
be
resolute
!
We
will
not
wring
the
public
bosom
,
with
the
delineation
of
such
suffering
!
Slowly
and
sadly
did
the
two
friends
and
the
deserted
lady
return
next
day
in
the
Muggleton
heavy
coach
.
Dimly
and
darkly
had
the
sombre
shadows
of
a
summer
’
s
night
fallen
upon
all
around
,
when
they
again
reached
Dingley
Dell
,
and
stood
within
the
entrance
to
Manor
Farm
.
A
night
of
quiet
and
repose
in
the
profound
silence
of
Dingley
Dell
,
and
an
hour
’
s
breathing
of
its
fresh
and
fragrant
air
on
the
ensuing
morning
,
completely
recovered
Mr
.
Pickwick
from
the
effects
of
his
late
fatigue
of
body
and
anxiety
of
mind
.
That
illustrious
man
had
been
separated
from
his
friends
and
fol
lowers
for
two
whole
days
;
and
it
was
with
a
degree
of
pleasure
and
delight
,
which
no
common
imagination
can
adequately
conceive
,
that
he
stepped
forward
to
greet
Mr
.
Winkle
and
Mr
.
Snodgrass
,
as
he
encountered
those
gentlemen
on
his
return
from
his
early
walk
.
The
pleasure
was
mutual
;
for
who
could
ever
gaze
on
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
beaming
face
without
experiencing
the
sensation
?
But
still
a
cloud
seemed
to
hang
over
his
companions
which
that
great
man
could
not
but
be
sensible
of
,
and
was
wholly
at
a
loss
to
account
for
.
There
was
a
mysterious
air
about
them
both
,
as
unusual
as
it
was
alarming
.
