Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба/Posthumous notes of the Pickwick Club (Чарльз Диккенс). Страница 341 из 859

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‘

I

should

then

,

Sir

,

’

continued

Mr

.

Pickwick

,

growing

warmer

as

the

subject

presented

itself

in

more

glowing

colours

before

him

—

‘

I

should

then

,

Sir

,

come

to

the

plain

and

simple

question

,

"

Will

you

have

me

?

"

I

think

I

am

justified

in

assuming

that

upon

this

,

she

would

turn

away

her

head

.

’

‘

You

think

that

may

be

taken

for

granted

?

’

said

Mr

.

Magnus

;

‘

because

,

if

she

did

not

do

that

at

the

right

place

,

it

would

be

embarrassing

.

’

‘

I

think

she

would

,

’

said

Mr

.

Pickwick

.

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‘

Upon

this

,

sir

,

I

should

squeeze

her

hand

,

and

I

think

—

I

think

,

Mr

.

Magnus

—

that

after

I

had

done

that

,

supposing

there

was

no

refusal

,

I

should

gently

draw

away

the

handkerchief

,

which

my

slight

knowledge

of

human

nature

leads

me

to

suppose

the

lady

would

be

applying

to

her

eyes

at

the

moment

,

and

steal

a

respectful

kiss

.

I

think

I

should

kiss

her

,

Mr

.

Magnus

;

and

at

this

particular

point

,

I

am

decidedly

of

opinion

that

if

the

lady

were

going

to

take

me

at

all

,

she

would

murmur

into

my

ears

a

bashful

acceptance

.

’

Mr

.

Magnus

started

;

gazed

on

Mr

.

Pickwick

’

s

intelligent

face

,

for

a

short

time

in

silence

;

and

then

(

the

dial

pointing

to

the

ten

minutes

past

)

shook

him

warmly

by

the

hand

,

and

rushed

desperately

from

the

room

.

Mr

.

Pickwick

had

taken

a

few

strides

to

and

fro

;

and

the

small

hand

of

the

clock

following

the

latter

part

of

his

example

,

had

arrived

at

the

figure

which

indicates

the

half

-

hour

,

when

the

door

suddenly

opened

.

He

turned

round

to

meet

Mr

.

Peter

Magnus

,

and

encountered

,

in

his

stead

,

the

joyous

face

of

Mr

.

Tupman

,

the

serene

countenance

of

Mr

.

Winkle

,

and

the

intellectual

lineaments

of

Mr

.

Snodgrass

.

As

Mr

.

Pickwick

greeted

them

,

Mr

.

Peter

Magnus

tripped

into

the

room

.

‘

My

friends

,

the

gentleman

I

was

speaking

of

—

Mr

.

Magnus

,

’

said

Mr

.

Pickwick

.

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‘

Your

servant

,

gentlemen

,

’

said

Mr

.

Magnus

,

evidently

in

a

high

state

of

excitement

;

‘

Mr

.

Pickwick

,

allow

me

to

speak

to

you

one

moment

,

sir

.

’

As

he

said

this

,

Mr

.

Magnus

harnessed

his

forefinger

to

Mr

.

Pickwick

’

s

buttonhole

,

and

,

drawing

him

to

a

window

recess

,

said

—

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