-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 405/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
‘
I
’
ve
been
asleep
,
right
in
front
of
the
taproom
fire
,
’
replied
the
fat
boy
,
who
had
heated
himself
to
the
colour
of
a
new
chimney
-
pot
,
in
the
course
of
an
hour
’
s
nap
.
‘
Master
sent
me
over
with
the
shay
-
cart
,
to
carry
your
luggage
up
to
the
house
.
He
’
d
ha
’
sent
some
saddle
-
horses
,
but
he
thought
you
’
d
rather
walk
,
being
a
cold
day
.
’
‘
Yes
,
yes
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
hastily
,
for
he
remembered
how
they
had
travelled
over
nearly
the
same
ground
on
a
previous
occasion
.
‘
Yes
,
we
would
rather
walk
.
Here
,
Sam
!
’
‘
Sir
,
’
said
Mr
.
Weller
.
‘
Help
Mr
.
Wardle
’
s
servant
to
put
the
packages
into
the
cart
,
and
then
ride
on
with
him
.
We
will
walk
forward
at
once
.
’
Having
given
this
direction
,
and
settled
with
the
coachman
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
and
his
three
friends
struck
into
the
footpath
across
the
fields
,
and
walked
briskly
away
,
leaving
Mr
.
Weller
and
the
fat
boy
confronted
together
for
the
first
time
.
Sam
looked
at
the
fat
boy
with
great
astonishment
,
but
without
saying
a
word
;
and
began
to
stow
the
luggage
rapidly
away
in
the
cart
,
while
the
fat
boy
stood
quietly
by
,
and
seemed
to
think
it
a
very
interesting
sort
of
thing
to
see
Mr
.
Weller
working
by
himself
.
‘
There
,
’
said
Sam
,
throwing
in
the
last
carpet
-
bag
,
‘
there
they
are
!
’
‘
Yes
,
’
said
the
fat
boy
,
in
a
very
satisfied
tone
,
‘
there
they
are
.
’
‘
Vell
,
young
twenty
stun
,
’
said
Sam
,
‘
you
’
re
a
nice
specimen
of
a
prize
boy
,
you
are
!
’
‘
Thank
’
ee
,
’
said
the
fat
boy
.
‘
You
ain
’
t
got
nothin
’
on
your
mind
as
makes
you
fret
yourself
,
have
you
?
’
inquired
Sam
.
