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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 586/859
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’
‘
What
do
you
think
of
it
,
Pruffle
?
’
‘
Think
of
it
,
Sir
?
’
‘
Yes
.
You
have
been
bred
up
in
this
country
.
What
should
you
say
was
the
cause
for
those
lights
,
now
?
’
The
scientific
gentleman
smilingly
anticipated
Pruffle
’
s
reply
that
he
could
assign
no
cause
for
them
at
all
.
Pruffle
meditated
.
‘
I
should
say
it
was
thieves
,
Sir
,
’
said
Pruffle
at
length
.
‘
You
’
re
a
fool
,
and
may
go
downstairs
,
’
said
the
scientific
gentleman
.
‘
Thank
you
,
Sir
,
’
said
Pruffle
.
And
down
he
went
.
But
the
scientific
gentleman
could
not
rest
under
the
idea
of
the
ingenious
treatise
he
had
projected
being
lost
to
the
world
,
which
must
inevitably
be
the
case
if
the
speculation
of
the
ingenious
Mr
.
Pruffle
were
not
stifled
in
its
birth
.
He
put
on
his
hat
and
walked
quickly
down
the
garden
,
determined
to
investigate
the
matter
to
the
very
bottom
.
Now
,
shortly
before
the
scientific
gentleman
walked
out
into
the
garden
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
had
run
down
the
lane
as
fast
as
he
could
,
to
convey
a
false
alarm
that
somebody
was
coming
that
way
;
occasionally
drawing
back
the
slide
of
the
dark
lantern
to
keep
himself
from
the
ditch
.
The
alarm
was
no
sooner
given
,
than
Mr
.
Winkle
scrambled
back
over
the
wall
,
and
Arabella
ran
into
the
house
;
the
garden
gate
was
shut
,
and
the
three
adventurers
were
making
the
best
of
their
way
down
the
lane
,
when
they
were
startled
by
the
scientific
gentleman
unlocking
his
garden
gate
.
