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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 170/859
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‘
Nobody
,
my
dear
!
’
exclaimed
Mr
.
Pott
archly
.
‘
Nobody
but
you
,
’
retorted
Mrs
.
Pott
,
with
asperity
.
‘
You
see
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
said
the
host
in
explanation
of
his
wife
’
s
lament
,
‘
that
we
are
in
some
measure
cut
off
from
many
enjoyments
and
pleasures
of
which
we
might
otherwise
partake
.
My
public
station
,
as
editor
of
the
Eatanswill
GAZETTE
,
the
position
which
that
paper
holds
in
the
country
,
my
constant
immersion
in
the
vortex
of
politics
—
’
‘
P
.
my
dear
—
’
interposed
Mrs
.
Pott
.
‘
My
life
—
’
said
the
editor
.
‘
I
wish
,
my
dear
,
you
would
endeavour
to
find
some
topic
of
conversation
in
which
these
gentlemen
might
take
some
rational
interest
.
’
‘
But
,
my
love
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pott
,
with
great
humility
,
‘
Mr
.
Pickwick
does
take
an
interest
in
it
.
’
‘
It
’
s
well
for
him
if
he
can
,
’
said
Mrs
.
Pott
emphatically
;
‘
I
am
wearied
out
of
my
life
with
your
politics
,
and
quarrels
with
the
INDEPENDENT
,
and
nonsense
.
I
am
quite
astonished
,
P
.
,
at
your
making
such
an
exhibition
of
your
absurdity
.
’
‘
But
,
my
dear
—
’
said
Mr
.
Pott
.
