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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 470/859
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It
was
at
the
end
of
the
chorus
to
the
first
verse
,
that
Mr
.
Pickwick
held
up
his
hand
in
a
listening
attitude
,
and
said
,
as
soon
as
silence
was
restored
—
‘
Hush
!
I
beg
your
pardon
.
I
thought
I
heard
somebody
calling
from
upstairs
.
’
A
profound
silence
immediately
ensued
;
and
Mr
.
Bob
Sawyer
was
observed
to
turn
pale
.
‘
I
think
I
hear
it
now
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Have
the
goodness
to
open
the
door
.
’
The
door
was
no
sooner
opened
than
all
doubt
on
the
subject
was
removed
.
‘
Mr
.
Sawyer
!
Mr
.
Sawyer
!
’
screamed
a
voice
from
the
two
-
pair
landing
.
‘
It
’
s
my
landlady
,
’
said
Bob
Sawyer
,
looking
round
him
with
great
dismay
.
‘
Yes
,
Mrs
.
Raddle
.
’
‘
What
do
you
mean
by
this
,
Mr
.
Sawyer
?
’
replied
the
voice
,
with
great
shrillness
and
rapidity
of
utterance
.
‘
Ain
’
t
it
enough
to
be
swindled
out
of
one
’
s
rent
,
and
money
lent
out
of
pocket
besides
,
and
abused
and
insulted
by
your
friends
that
dares
to
call
themselves
men
,
without
having
the
house
turned
out
of
the
window
,
and
noise
enough
made
to
bring
the
fire
-
engines
here
,
at
two
o
’
clock
in
the
morning
?
—
Turn
them
wretches
away
.
’
‘
You
ought
to
be
ashamed
of
yourselves
,
’
said
the
voice
of
Mr
.
Raddle
,
which
appeared
to
proceed
from
beneath
some
distant
bed
-
clothes
.
