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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 256/859
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‘
Is
it
not
a
wonderful
circumstance
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
‘
that
we
seem
destined
to
enter
no
man
’
s
house
without
involving
him
in
some
degree
of
trouble
?
Does
it
not
,
I
ask
,
bespeak
the
indiscretion
,
or
,
worse
than
that
,
the
blackness
of
heart
—
that
I
should
say
so
!
—
of
my
followers
,
that
,
beneath
whatever
roof
they
locate
,
they
disturb
the
peace
of
mind
and
happiness
of
some
confiding
female
?
Is
it
not
,
I
say
—
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
would
in
all
probability
have
gone
on
for
some
time
,
had
not
the
entrance
of
Sam
,
with
a
letter
,
caused
him
to
break
off
in
his
eloquent
discourse
.
He
passed
his
handkerchief
across
his
forehead
,
took
off
his
spectacles
,
wiped
them
,
and
put
them
on
again
;
and
his
voice
had
recovered
its
wonted
softness
of
tone
when
he
said
—
‘
What
have
you
there
,
Sam
?
’
‘
Called
at
the
post
-
office
just
now
,
and
found
this
here
letter
,
as
has
laid
there
for
two
days
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Weller
.
‘
It
’
s
sealed
vith
a
vafer
,
and
directed
in
round
hand
.
’
‘
I
don
’
t
know
this
hand
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
opening
the
letter
.
‘
Mercy
on
us
!
what
’
s
this
?
It
must
be
a
jest
;
it
—
it
—
can
’
t
be
true
.
’
‘
What
’
s
the
matter
?
’
was
the
general
inquiry
.
‘
Nobody
dead
,
is
there
?
’
said
Wardle
,
alarmed
at
the
horror
in
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
countenance
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
made
no
reply
,
but
,
pushing
the
letter
across
the
table
,
and
desiring
Mr
.
Tupman
to
read
it
aloud
,
fell
back
in
his
chair
with
a
look
of
vacant
astonishment
quite
alarming
to
behold
.
Mr
.
Tupman
,
with
a
trembling
voice
,
read
the
letter
,
of
which
the
following
is
a
copy
:
—
