-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 266/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
No
,
no
;
I
mean
the
others
,
’
said
the
bewildered
Winkle
.
‘
Far
enough
off
,
by
this
time
,
’
replied
Wardle
,
coolly
reloading
his
gun
.
‘
We
shall
very
likely
be
up
with
another
covey
in
five
minutes
,
’
said
the
long
gamekeeper
.
‘
If
the
gentleman
begins
to
fire
now
,
perhaps
he
’
ll
just
get
the
shot
out
of
the
barrel
by
the
time
they
rise
.
’
‘
Ha
!
ha
!
ha
!
’
roared
Mr
.
Weller
.
‘
Sam
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
compassionating
his
follower
’
s
confusion
and
embarrassment
.
‘
Sir
.
’
‘
Don
’
t
laugh
.
’
‘
Certainly
not
,
Sir
.
’
So
,
by
way
of
indemnification
,
Mr
.
Weller
contorted
his
features
from
behind
the
wheel
-
barrow
,
for
the
exclusive
amusement
of
the
boy
with
the
leggings
,
who
thereupon
burst
into
a
boisterous
laugh
,
and
was
summarily
cuffed
by
the
long
gamekeeper
,
who
wanted
a
pretext
for
turning
round
,
to
hide
his
own
merriment
.
‘
Bravo
,
old
fellow
!
’
said
Wardle
to
Mr
.
Tupman
;
‘
you
fired
that
time
,
at
all
events
.
’
