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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 617/859
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‘
Five
doors
farther
on
,
’
replied
the
pot
-
boy
.
‘
There
’
s
the
likeness
of
a
man
being
hung
,
and
smoking
the
while
,
chalked
outside
the
door
.
’
Guided
by
this
direction
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
proceeded
slowly
along
the
gallery
until
he
encountered
the
‘
portrait
of
a
gentleman
,
’
above
described
,
upon
whose
countenance
he
tapped
,
with
the
knuckle
of
his
forefinger
—
gently
at
first
,
and
then
audibly
.
After
repeating
this
process
several
times
without
effect
,
he
ventured
to
open
the
door
and
peep
in
.
There
was
only
one
man
in
the
room
,
and
he
was
leaning
out
of
window
as
far
as
he
could
without
overbalancing
himself
,
endeavouring
,
with
great
perseverance
,
to
spit
upon
the
crown
of
the
hat
of
a
personal
friend
on
the
parade
below
.
As
neither
speaking
,
coughing
,
sneezing
,
knocking
,
nor
any
other
ordinary
mode
of
attracting
attention
,
made
this
person
aware
of
the
presence
of
a
visitor
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
after
some
delay
,
stepped
up
to
the
window
,
and
pulled
him
gently
by
the
coat
tail
.
The
individual
brought
in
his
head
and
shoulders
with
great
swiftness
,
and
surveying
Mr
.
Pickwick
from
head
to
foot
,
demanded
in
a
surly
tone
what
the
—
something
beginning
with
a
capital
H
—
he
wanted
.
‘
I
believe
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
consulting
his
ticket
—
‘
I
believe
this
is
twenty
-
seven
in
the
third
?
’
‘
Well
?
’
replied
the
gentleman
.
‘
I
have
come
here
in
consequence
of
receiving
this
bit
of
paper
,
’
rejoined
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Hand
it
over
,
’
said
the
gentleman
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
complied
.
‘
I
think
Roker
might
have
chummed
you
somewhere
else
,
’
said
Mr
.
Simpson
(
for
it
was
the
leg
)
,
after
a
very
discontented
sort
of
a
pause
.
