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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
However
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
endeavouring
to
reassure
himself
,
‘
I
must
do
the
best
I
can
.
I
must
see
him
to
-
night
,
for
I
faithfully
promised
to
do
so
.
If
they
persist
in
accompanying
me
,
I
must
make
the
interview
as
brief
as
possible
,
and
be
content
that
,
for
their
own
sakes
,
they
will
not
expose
themselves
.
’
As
he
comforted
himself
with
these
reflections
,
the
chaise
stopped
at
the
door
of
the
Old
Royal
.
Ben
Allen
having
been
partially
awakened
from
a
stupendous
sleep
,
and
dragged
out
by
the
collar
by
Mr
.
Samuel
Weller
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
was
enabled
to
alight
.
They
were
shown
to
a
comfortable
apartment
,
and
Mr
.
Pickwick
at
once
propounded
a
question
to
the
waiter
concerning
the
whereabout
of
Mr
.
Winkle
’
s
residence
.
‘
Close
by
,
Sir
,
’
said
the
waiter
,
‘
not
above
five
hundred
yards
,
Sir
.
Mr
.
Winkle
is
a
wharfinger
,
Sir
,
at
the
canal
,
sir
.
Private
residence
is
not
—
oh
dear
,
no
,
sir
,
not
five
hundred
yards
,
sir
.
’
Here
the
waiter
blew
a
candle
out
,
and
made
a
feint
of
lighting
it
again
,
in
order
to
afford
Mr
.
Pickwick
an
opportunity
of
asking
any
further
questions
,
if
he
felt
so
disposed
.
‘
Take
anything
now
,
Sir
?
’
said
the
waiter
,
lighting
the
candle
in
desperation
at
Mr
.
Pickwick
’
s
silence
.
‘
Tea
or
coffee
,
Sir
?
Dinner
,
sir
?
’
‘
Nothing
now
.
’
‘
Very
good
,
sir
.
Like
to
order
supper
,
Sir
?
’
‘
Not
just
now
.
’
‘
Very
good
,
Sir
.
’
Here
,
he
walked
slowly
to
the
door
,
and
then
stopping
short
,
turned
round
and
said
,
with
great
suavity
—
‘
Shall
I
send
the
chambermaid
,
gentlemen
?
’
‘
You
may
if
you
please
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
