-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 522/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
friend
was
a
charming
young
man
of
not
much
more
than
fifty
,
dressed
in
a
very
bright
blue
coat
with
resplendent
buttons
,
black
trousers
,
and
the
thinnest
possible
pair
of
highly
-
polished
boots
.
A
gold
eye
-
glass
was
suspended
from
his
neck
by
a
short
,
broad
,
black
ribbon
;
a
gold
snuff
-
box
was
lightly
clasped
in
his
left
hand
;
gold
rings
innumerable
glittered
on
his
fingers
;
and
a
large
diamond
pin
set
in
gold
glistened
in
his
shirt
frill
.
He
had
a
gold
watch
,
and
a
gold
curb
chain
with
large
gold
seals
;
and
he
carried
a
pliant
ebony
cane
with
a
gold
top
.
His
linen
was
of
the
very
whitest
,
finest
,
and
stiffest
;
his
wig
of
the
glossiest
,
blackest
,
and
curliest
.
His
snuff
was
princes
’
mixture
;
his
scent
BOUQUET
DU
ROI
.
His
features
were
contracted
into
a
perpetual
smile
;
and
his
teeth
were
in
such
perfect
order
that
it
was
difficult
at
a
small
distance
to
tell
the
real
from
the
false
.
‘
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
said
Mr
.
Dowler
;
‘
my
friend
,
Angelo
Cyrus
Bantam
,
Esquire
,
M
.
C
.
;
Bantam
;
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
Know
each
other
.
’
‘
Welcome
to
Ba
-
ath
,
Sir
.
This
is
indeed
an
acquisition
.
Most
welcome
to
Ba
-
ath
,
sir
.
It
is
long
—
very
long
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
since
you
drank
the
waters
.
It
appears
an
age
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
Re
-
markable
!
’
Such
were
the
expressions
with
which
Angelo
Cyrus
Bantam
,
Esquire
,
M
.
C
.
,
took
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
hand
;
retaining
it
in
his
,
meantime
,
and
shrugging
up
his
shoulders
with
a
constant
succession
of
bows
,
as
if
he
really
could
not
make
up
his
mind
to
the
trial
of
letting
it
go
again
.
‘
It
is
a
very
long
time
since
I
drank
the
waters
,
certainly
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
;
‘
for
,
to
the
best
of
my
knowledge
,
I
was
never
here
before
.
’
‘
Never
in
Ba
-
ath
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
!
’
exclaimed
the
Grand
Master
,
letting
the
hand
fall
in
astonishment
.
‘
Never
in
Ba
-
ath
!
He
!
he
!
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
you
are
a
wag
.
Not
bad
,
not
bad
.
Good
,
good
.
He
!
he
!
he
!
Re
-
markable
!
’
‘
To
my
shame
,
I
must
say
that
I
am
perfectly
serious
,
’
rejoined
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
I
really
never
was
here
before
.
’
‘
Oh
,
I
see
,
’
exclaimed
the
Grand
Master
,
looking
extremely
pleased
;
‘
yes
,
yes
—
good
,
good
—
better
and
better
.
You
are
the
gentleman
of
whom
we
have
heard
.
Yes
;
we
know
you
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
;
we
know
you
.
’