-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 143/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
old
clergyman
was
present
.
‘
You
are
not
really
going
?
’
said
he
,
taking
Mr
.
Pickwick
aside
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
reiterated
his
former
determination
.
‘
Then
here
,
’
said
the
old
gentleman
,
‘
is
a
little
manuscript
,
which
I
had
hoped
to
have
the
pleasure
of
reading
to
you
myself
.
I
found
it
on
the
death
of
a
friend
of
mine
—
a
medical
man
,
engaged
in
our
county
lunatic
asylum
—
among
a
variety
of
papers
,
which
I
had
the
option
of
destroying
or
preserving
,
as
I
thought
proper
.
I
can
hardly
believe
that
the
manuscript
is
genuine
,
though
it
certainly
is
not
in
my
friend
’
s
hand
.
However
,
whether
it
be
the
genuine
production
of
a
maniac
,
or
founded
upon
the
ravings
of
some
unhappy
being
(
which
I
think
more
probable
)
,
read
it
,
and
judge
for
yourself
.
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
received
the
manuscript
,
and
parted
from
the
benevolent
old
gentleman
with
many
expressions
of
good
-
will
and
esteem
.
It
was
a
more
difficult
task
to
take
leave
of
the
inmates
of
Manor
Farm
,
from
whom
they
had
received
so
much
hospitality
and
kindness
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
kissed
the
young
ladies
—
we
were
going
to
say
,
as
if
they
were
his
own
daughters
,
only
,
as
he
might
possibly
have
infused
a
little
more
warmth
into
the
salutation
,
the
comparison
would
not
be
quite
appropriate
—
hugged
the
old
lady
with
filial
cordiality
;
and
patted
the
rosy
cheeks
of
the
female
servants
in
a
most
patriarchal
manner
,
as
he
slipped
into
the
hands
of
each
some
more
substantial
expression
of
his
approval
.
The
exchange
of
cordialities
with
their
fine
old
host
and
Mr
.
Trundle
was
even
more
hearty
and
prolonged
;
and
it
was
not
until
Mr
.
Snodgrass
had
been
several
times
called
for
,
and
at
last
emerged
from
a
dark
passage
followed
soon
after
by
Emily
(
whose
bright
eyes
looked
unusually
dim
)
,
that
the
three
friends
were
enabled
to
tear
themselves
from
their
friendly
entertainers
.
Many
a
backward
look
they
gave
at
the
farm
,
as
they
walked
slowly
away
;
and
many
a
kiss
did
Mr
.
Snodgrass
waft
in
the
air
,
in
acknowledgment
of
something
very
like
a
lady
’
s
handkerchief
,
which
was
waved
from
one
of
the
upper
windows
,
until
a
turn
of
the
lane
hid
the
old
house
from
their
sight
.
At
Muggleton
they
procured
a
conveyance
to
Rochester
.
By
the
time
they
reached
the
last
-
named
place
,
the
violence
of
their
grief
had
sufficiently
abated
to
admit
of
their
making
a
very
excellent
early
dinner
;
and
having
procured
the
necessary
information
relative
to
the
road
,
the
three
friends
set
forward
again
in
the
afternoon
to
walk
to
Cobham
.
A
delightful
walk
it
was
;
for
it
was
a
pleasant
afternoon
in
June
,
and
their
way
lay
through
a
deep
and
shady
wood
,
cooled
by
the
light
wind
which
gently
rustled
the
thick
foliage
,
and
enlivened
by
the
songs
of
the
birds
that
perched
upon
the
boughs
.
The
ivy
and
the
moss
crept
in
thick
clusters
over
the
old
trees
,
and
the
soft
green
turf
overspread
the
ground
like
a
silken
mat
.
They
emerged
upon
an
open
park
,
with
an
ancient
hall
,
displaying
the
quaint
and
picturesque
architecture
of
Elizabeth
’
s
time
.
Long
vistas
of
stately
oaks
and
elm
trees
appeared
on
every
side
;
large
herds
of
deer
were
cropping
the
fresh
grass
;
and
occasionally
a
startled
hare
scoured
along
the
ground
,
with
the
speed
of
the
shadows
thrown
by
the
light
clouds
which
swept
across
a
sunny
landscape
like
a
passing
breath
of
summer
.
