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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 643/859
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‘
Nobody
know
’
d
,
’
replied
Sam
.
‘
He
hadn
’
t
got
his
card
in
his
pocket
.
’
‘
I
object
to
the
introduction
o
’
politics
,
’
said
the
mottled
-
faced
gentleman
.
‘
I
submit
that
,
in
the
present
company
,
that
‘
ere
song
’
s
political
;
and
,
wot
’
s
much
the
same
,
that
it
ain
’
t
true
.
I
say
that
that
coachman
did
not
run
away
;
but
that
he
died
game
—
game
as
pheasants
;
and
I
won
’
t
hear
nothin
’
said
to
the
contrairey
.
’
As
the
mottled
-
faced
gentleman
spoke
with
great
energy
and
determination
,
and
as
the
opinions
of
the
company
seemed
divided
on
the
subject
,
it
threatened
to
give
rise
to
fresh
altercation
,
when
Mr
.
Weller
and
Mr
.
Pell
most
opportunely
arrived
.
‘
All
right
,
Sammy
,
’
said
Mr
.
Weller
.
‘
The
officer
will
be
here
at
four
o
’
clock
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pell
.
‘
I
suppose
you
won
’
t
run
away
meanwhile
,
eh
?
Ha
!
ha
!
’
‘
P
’
raps
my
cruel
pa
’
ull
relent
afore
then
,
’
replied
Sam
,
with
a
broad
grin
.
‘
Not
I
,
’
said
the
elder
Mr
.
Weller
.
‘
Do
,
’
said
Sam
.
‘
Not
on
no
account
,
’
replied
the
inexorable
creditor
.
