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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 514/859
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‘
Seven
hundred
and
fifty
pounds
.
’
Mr
.
Pickwick
took
off
his
spectacles
,
carefully
wiped
the
glasses
,
folded
them
into
their
case
,
and
put
them
in
his
pocket
;
then
,
having
drawn
on
his
gloves
with
great
nicety
,
and
stared
at
the
foreman
all
the
while
,
he
mechanically
followed
Mr
.
Perker
and
the
blue
bag
out
of
court
.
They
stopped
in
a
side
room
while
Perker
paid
the
court
fees
;
and
here
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
was
joined
by
his
friends
.
Here
,
too
,
he
encountered
Messrs
.
Dodson
&
Fogg
,
rubbing
their
hands
with
every
token
of
outward
satisfaction
.
‘
Well
,
gentlemen
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Well
,
Sir
,
’
said
Dodson
,
for
self
and
partner
.
‘
You
imagine
you
’
ll
get
your
costs
,
don
’
t
you
,
gentlemen
?
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
Fogg
said
they
thought
it
rather
probable
.
Dodson
smiled
,
and
said
they
’
d
try
.
‘
You
may
try
,
and
try
,
and
try
again
,
Messrs
.
Dodson
and
Fogg
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
vehemently
,
‘
but
not
one
farthing
of
costs
or
damages
do
you
ever
get
from
me
,
if
I
spend
the
rest
of
my
existence
in
a
debtor
’
s
prison
.
’
‘
Ha
!
ha
!
’
laughed
Dodson
.
‘
You
’
ll
think
better
of
that
,
before
next
term
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
’
‘
He
,
he
,
he
!
We
’
ll
soon
see
about
that
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
grinned
Fogg
.
