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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 449/859
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‘
You
don
’
t
think
it
would
be
of
any
use
my
waiting
for
him
?
’
said
the
stranger
,
looking
wistfully
into
the
office
.
‘
Oh
,
no
,
I
’
m
sure
it
wouldn
’
t
,
’
replied
the
clerk
,
moving
a
little
more
into
the
centre
of
the
doorway
.
‘
He
’
s
certain
not
to
be
back
this
week
,
and
it
’
s
a
chance
whether
he
will
be
next
;
for
when
Perker
once
gets
out
of
town
,
he
’
s
never
in
a
hurry
to
come
back
again
.
’
‘
Out
of
town
!
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
;
‘
dear
me
,
how
unfortunate
!
’
‘
Don
’
t
go
away
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
said
Lowten
,
‘
I
’
ve
got
a
letter
for
you
.
’
The
stranger
,
seeming
to
hesitate
,
once
more
looked
towards
the
ground
,
and
the
clerk
winked
slyly
at
Mr
.
PickwiCK
,
as
if
to
intimate
that
some
exquisite
piece
of
humour
was
going
forward
,
though
what
it
was
Mr
.
Pickwick
could
not
for
the
life
of
him
divine
.
‘
Step
in
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
said
Lowten
.
‘
Well
,
will
you
leave
a
message
,
Mr
.
Watty
,
or
will
you
call
again
?
’
‘
Ask
him
to
be
so
kind
as
to
leave
out
word
what
has
been
done
in
my
business
,
’
said
the
man
;
‘
for
God
’
s
sake
don
’
t
neglect
it
,
Mr
.
Lowten
.
’
‘
No
,
no
;
I
won
’
t
forget
it
,
’
replied
the
clerk
.
‘
Walk
in
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
Good
-
morning
,
Mr
.
Watty
;
it
’
s
a
fine
day
for
walking
,
isn
’
t
it
?
’
Seeing
that
the
stranger
still
lingered
,
he
beckoned
Sam
Weller
to
follow
his
master
in
,
and
shut
the
door
in
his
face
.
‘
There
never
was
such
a
pestering
bankrupt
as
that
since
the
world
began
,
I
do
believe
!
’
said
Lowten
,
throwing
down
his
pen
with
the
air
of
an
injured
man
.
‘
His
affairs
haven
’
t
been
in
Chancery
quite
four
years
yet
,
and
I
’
m
d
—
d
if
he
don
’
t
come
worrying
here
twice
a
week
.
Step
this
way
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
Perker
IS
in
,
and
he
’
ll
see
you
,
I
know
.
Devilish
cold
,
’
he
added
pettishly
,
‘
standing
at
that
door
,
wasting
one
’
s
time
with
such
seedy
vagabonds
!
’
Having
very
vehemently
stirred
a
particularly
large
fire
with
a
particularly
small
poker
,
the
clerk
led
the
way
to
his
principal
’
s
private
room
,
and
announced
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Ah
,
my
dear
Sir
,
’
said
little
Mr
.
Perker
,
bustling
up
from
his
chair
.
‘
Well
,
my
dear
sir
,
and
what
’
s
the
news
about
your
matter
,
eh
?
Anything
more
about
our
friends
in
Freeman
’
s
Court
?
They
’
ve
not
been
sleeping
,
I
know
that
.
Ah
,
they
’
re
very
smart
fellows
;
very
smart
,
indeed
.
’
