-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
-
- Стр. 725/859
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
They
were
the
decaying
skeletons
of
departed
mails
,
and
in
that
lonely
place
,
at
that
time
of
night
,
they
looked
chill
and
dismal
.
‘
My
uncle
rested
his
head
upon
his
hands
,
and
thought
of
the
busy
,
bustling
people
who
had
rattled
about
,
years
before
,
in
the
old
coaches
,
and
were
now
as
silent
and
changed
;
he
thought
of
the
numbers
of
people
to
whom
one
of
these
crazy
,
mouldering
vehicles
had
borne
,
night
after
night
,
for
many
years
,
and
through
all
weathers
,
the
anxiously
expected
intelligence
,
the
eagerly
looked
-
for
remittance
,
the
promised
assurance
of
health
and
safety
,
the
sudden
announcement
of
sickness
and
death
.
The
merchant
,
the
lover
,
the
wife
,
the
widow
,
the
mother
,
the
school
-
boy
,
the
very
child
who
tottered
to
the
door
at
the
postman
’
s
knock
—
how
had
they
all
looked
forward
to
the
arrival
of
the
old
coach
.
And
where
were
they
all
now
?
‘
Gentlemen
,
my
uncle
used
to
SAY
that
he
thought
all
this
at
the
time
,
but
I
rather
suspect
he
learned
it
out
of
some
book
afterwards
,
for
he
distinctly
stated
that
he
fell
into
a
kind
of
doze
,
as
he
sat
on
the
old
axle
-
tree
looking
at
the
decayed
mail
coaches
,
and
that
he
was
suddenly
awakened
by
some
deep
church
bell
striking
two
.
Now
,
my
uncle
was
never
a
fast
thinker
,
and
if
he
had
thought
all
these
things
,
I
am
quite
certain
it
would
have
taken
him
till
full
half
-
past
two
o
’
clock
at
the
very
least
.
I
am
,
therefore
,
decidedly
of
opinion
,
gentlemen
,
that
my
uncle
fell
into
a
kind
of
doze
,
without
having
thought
about
anything
at
all
.
‘
Be
this
as
it
may
,
a
church
bell
struck
two
.
My
uncle
woke
,
rubbed
his
eyes
,
and
jumped
up
in
astonishment
.
‘
In
one
instant
,
after
the
clock
struck
two
,
the
whole
of
this
deserted
and
quiet
spot
had
become
a
scene
of
most
extraordinary
life
and
animation
.
The
mail
coach
doors
were
on
their
hinges
,
the
lining
was
replaced
,
the
ironwork
was
as
good
as
new
,
the
paint
was
restored
,
the
lamps
were
alight
;
cushions
and
greatcoats
were
on
every
coach
-
box
,
porters
were
thrusting
parcels
into
every
boot
,
guards
were
stowing
away
letter
-
bags
,
hostlers
were
dashing
pails
of
water
against
the
renovated
wheels
;
numbers
of
men
were
pushing
about
,
fixing
poles
into
every
coach
;
passengers
arrived
,
portmanteaus
were
handed
up
,
horses
were
put
to
;
in
short
,
it
was
perfectly
clear
that
every
mail
there
,
was
to
be
off
directly
.
Gentlemen
,
my
uncle
opened
his
eyes
so
wide
at
all
this
,
that
,
to
the
very
last
moment
of
his
life
,
he
used
to
wonder
how
it
fell
out
that
he
had
ever
been
able
to
shut
’
em
again
.
‘
"
Now
then
!
"
said
a
voice
,
as
my
uncle
felt
a
hand
on
his
shoulder
,
"
you
’
re
booked
for
one
inside
.
You
’
d
better
get
in
.
"
‘
"
I
booked
!
"
said
my
uncle
,
turning
round
.
‘
"
Yes
,
certainly
.
"
‘
My
uncle
,
gentlemen
,
could
say
nothing
,
he
was
so
very
much
astonished
.
The
queerest
thing
of
all
was
that
although
there
was
such
a
crowd
of
persons
,
and
although
fresh
faces
were
pouring
in
,
every
moment
,
there
was
no
telling
where
they
came
from
.
They
seemed
to
start
up
,
in
some
strange
manner
,
from
the
ground
,
or
the
air
,
and
disappear
in
the
same
way
.
When
a
porter
had
put
his
luggage
in
the
coach
,
and
received
his
fare
,
he
turned
round
and
was
gone
;
and
before
my
uncle
had
well
begun
to
wonder
what
had
become
of
him
,
half
a
dozen
fresh
ones
started
up
,
and
staggered
along
under
the
weight
of
parcels
,
which
seemed
big
enough
to
crush
them
.
The
passengers
were
all
dressed
so
oddly
too
!
Large
,
broad
-
skirted
laced
coats
,
with
great
cuffs
and
no
collars
;
and
wigs
,
gentlemen
—
great
formal
wigs
with
a
tie
behind
.
My
uncle
could
make
nothing
of
it
.
‘
"
Now
,
are
you
going
to
get
in
?
"
said
the
person
who
had
addressed
my
uncle
before
.
He
was
dressed
as
a
mail
guard
,
with
a
wig
on
his
head
and
most
enormous
cuffs
to
his
coat
,
and
had
a
lantern
in
one
hand
,
and
a
huge
blunderbuss
in
the
other
,
which
he
was
going
to
stow
away
in
his
little
arm
-
chest
.
"
ARE
you
going
to
get
in
,
Jack
Martin
?
"
said
the
guard
,
holding
the
lantern
to
my
uncle
’
s
face
.
