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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 658/859
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‘
No
,
I
don
’
t
,
sir
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Weller
,
beginning
to
button
with
extraordinary
assiduity
.
‘
Are
you
sure
,
Sam
?
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Wy
,
sir
,
’
responded
Mr
.
Weller
;
‘
I
’
m
sure
so
far
,
that
I
’
ve
never
heerd
anythin
’
on
the
subject
afore
this
moment
.
If
I
makes
any
guess
about
it
,
’
added
Sam
,
looking
at
Mr
.
Winkle
,
‘
I
haven
’
t
got
any
right
to
say
what
‘
It
is
,
fear
it
should
be
a
wrong
‘
un
.
’
‘
I
have
no
right
to
make
any
further
inquiry
into
the
private
affairs
of
a
friend
,
however
intimate
a
friend
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
after
a
short
silence
;
‘
at
present
let
me
merely
say
,
that
I
do
not
understand
this
at
all
.
There
.
We
have
had
quite
enough
of
the
subject
.
’
Thus
expressing
himself
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
led
the
conversation
to
different
topics
,
and
Mr
.
Winkle
gradually
appeared
more
at
ease
,
though
still
very
far
from
being
completely
so
.
They
had
all
so
much
to
converse
about
,
that
the
morning
very
quickly
passed
away
;
and
when
,
at
three
o
’
clock
,
Mr
.
Weller
produced
upon
the
little
dining
-
table
,
a
roast
leg
of
mutton
and
an
enormous
meat
-
pie
,
with
sundry
dishes
of
vegetables
,
and
pots
of
porter
,
which
stood
upon
the
chairs
or
the
sofa
bedstead
,
or
where
they
could
,
everybody
felt
disposed
to
do
justice
to
the
meal
,
notwithstanding
that
the
meat
had
been
purchased
,
and
dressed
,
and
the
pie
made
,
and
baked
,
at
the
prison
cookery
hard
by
.
To
these
succeeded
a
bottle
or
two
of
very
good
wine
,
for
which
a
messenger
was
despatched
by
Mr
.
Pickwick
to
the
Horn
Coffee
-
house
,
in
Doctors
’
Commons
.
The
bottle
or
two
,
indeed
,
might
be
more
properly
described
as
a
bottle
or
six
,
for
by
the
time
it
was
drunk
,
and
tea
over
,
the
bell
began
to
ring
for
strangers
to
withdraw
.
But
,
if
Mr
.
Winkle
’
s
behaviour
had
been
unaccountable
in
the
morning
,
it
became
perfectly
unearthly
and
solemn
when
,
under
the
influence
of
his
feelings
,
and
his
share
of
the
bottle
or
six
,
he
prepared
to
take
leave
of
his
friend
.
He
lingered
behind
,
until
Mr
.
Tupman
and
Mr
.
Snodgrass
had
disappeared
,
and
then
fervently
clenched
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
hand
,
with
an
expression
of
face
in
which
deep
and
mighty
resolve
was
fearfully
blended
with
the
very
concentrated
essence
of
gloom
.
‘
Good
-
night
,
my
dear
Sir
!
’
said
Mr
.
Winkle
between
his
set
teeth
.
