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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
Any
more
?
’
said
the
whistling
gentleman
.
‘
No
more
,
’
replied
Job
Trotter
.
Mr
.
Pickwick
paid
,
the
door
was
unbolted
,
and
out
they
came
;
the
uncombed
gentleman
bestowing
a
friendly
nod
upon
Mr
.
Roker
,
who
happened
to
be
passing
at
the
moment
.
From
this
spot
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
wandered
along
all
the
galleries
,
up
and
down
all
the
staircases
,
and
once
again
round
the
whole
area
of
the
yard
.
The
great
body
of
the
prison
population
appeared
to
be
Mivins
,
and
Smangle
,
and
the
parson
,
and
the
butcher
,
and
the
leg
,
over
and
over
,
and
over
again
.
There
were
the
same
squalor
,
the
same
turmoil
and
noise
,
the
same
general
characteristics
,
in
every
corner
;
in
the
best
and
the
worst
alike
.
The
whole
place
seemed
restless
and
troubled
;
and
the
people
were
crowding
and
flitting
to
and
fro
,
like
the
shadows
in
an
uneasy
dream
.
‘
I
have
seen
enough
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
as
he
threw
himself
into
a
chair
in
his
little
apartment
.
‘
My
head
aches
with
these
scenes
,
and
my
heart
too
.
Henceforth
I
will
be
a
prisoner
in
my
own
room
.
’
And
Mr
Pickwick
steadfastly
adhered
to
this
determination
.
For
three
long
months
he
remained
shut
up
,
all
day
;
only
stealing
out
at
night
to
breathe
the
air
,
when
the
greater
part
of
his
fellow
-
prisoners
were
in
bed
or
carousing
in
their
rooms
.
His
health
was
beginning
to
suffer
from
the
closeness
of
the
confinement
,
but
neither
the
often
-
repeated
entreaties
of
Perker
and
his
friends
,
nor
the
still
more
frequently
-
repeated
warnings
and
admonitions
of
Mr
.
Samuel
Weller
,
could
induce
him
to
alter
one
jot
of
his
inflexible
resolution
.
It
was
within
a
week
of
the
close
of
the
month
of
July
,
that
a
hackney
cabriolet
,
number
unrecorded
,
was
seen
to
proceed
at
a
rapid
pace
up
Goswell
Street
;
three
people
were
squeezed
into
it
besides
the
driver
,
who
sat
in
his
own
particular
little
dickey
at
the
side
;
over
the
apron
were
hung
two
shawls
,
belonging
to
two
small
vixenish
-
looking
ladies
under
the
apron
;
between
whom
,
compressed
into
a
very
small
compass
,
was
stowed
away
,
a
gentleman
of
heavy
and
subdued
demeanour
,
who
,
whenever
he
ventured
to
make
an
observation
,
was
snapped
up
short
by
one
of
the
vixenish
ladies
before
-
mentioned
.
Lastly
,
the
two
vixenish
ladies
and
the
heavy
gentleman
were
giving
the
driver
contradictory
directions
,
all
tending
to
the
one
point
,
that
he
should
stop
at
Mrs
.
Bardell
’
s
door
;
which
the
heavy
gentleman
,
in
direct
opposition
to
,
and
defiance
of
,
the
vixenish
ladies
,
contended
was
a
green
door
and
not
a
yellow
one
.
‘
Stop
at
the
house
with
a
green
door
,
driver
,
’
said
the
heavy
gentleman
.
‘
Oh
!
You
perwerse
creetur
!
’
exclaimed
one
of
the
vixenish
ladies
.
‘
Drive
to
the
‘
ouse
with
the
yellow
door
,
cabmin
.
’
