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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 189/859
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‘
"
You
,
"
said
the
old
gentleman
.
‘
"
Bless
your
reverend
locks
,
"
said
Tom
(
he
had
a
few
scattered
horse
-
hairs
left
)
—
"
bless
your
reverend
locks
,
she
wouldn
’
t
have
me
.
"
And
Tom
sighed
involuntarily
,
as
he
thought
of
the
bar
.
‘
"
Wouldn
’
t
she
?
"
said
the
old
gentleman
firmly
.
‘
"
No
,
no
,
"
said
Tom
;
"
there
’
s
somebody
else
in
the
wind
.
A
tall
man
—
a
confoundedly
tall
man
—
with
black
whiskers
.
"
‘
"
Tom
,
"
said
the
old
gentleman
;
"
she
will
never
have
him
.
"
‘
"
Won
’
t
she
?
"
said
Tom
.
"
If
you
stood
in
the
bar
,
old
gentleman
,
you
’
d
tell
another
story
.
"
‘
"
Pooh
,
pooh
,
"
said
the
old
gentleman
.
"
I
know
all
about
that
.
"
‘
"
About
what
?
"
said
Tom
.
‘
"
The
kissing
behind
the
door
,
and
all
that
sort
of
thing
,
Tom
,
"
said
the
old
gentleman
.
And
here
he
gave
another
impudent
look
,
which
made
Tom
very
wroth
,
because
as
you
all
know
,
gentlemen
,
to
hear
an
old
fellow
,
who
ought
to
know
better
,
talking
about
these
things
,
is
very
unpleasant
—
nothing
more
so
.
‘
"
I
know
all
about
that
,
Tom
,
"
said
the
old
gentleman
.
"
I
have
seen
it
done
very
often
in
my
time
,
Tom
,
between
more
people
than
I
should
like
to
mention
to
you
;
but
it
never
came
to
anything
after
all
.
"
