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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 772/859
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‘
Good
-
bye
,
’
rejoined
the
pretty
housemaid
,
turning
her
head
away
.
‘
Well
,
shake
hands
,
won
’
t
you
?
’
said
Sam
.
The
pretty
housemaid
put
out
a
hand
which
,
although
it
was
a
housemaid
’
s
,
was
a
very
small
one
,
and
rose
to
go
.
‘
I
shan
’
t
be
wery
long
avay
,
’
said
Sam
.
‘
You
’
re
always
away
,
’
said
Mary
,
giving
her
head
the
slightest
possible
toss
in
the
air
.
‘
You
no
sooner
come
,
Mr
.
Weller
,
than
you
go
again
.
’
Mr
.
Weller
drew
the
household
beauty
closer
to
him
,
and
entered
upon
a
whispering
conversation
,
which
had
not
proceeded
far
,
when
she
turned
her
face
round
and
condescended
to
look
at
him
again
.
When
they
parted
,
it
was
somehow
or
other
indispensably
necessary
for
her
to
go
to
her
room
,
and
arrange
the
cap
and
curls
before
she
could
think
of
presenting
herself
to
her
mistress
;
which
preparatory
ceremony
she
went
off
to
perform
,
bestowing
many
nods
and
smiles
on
Sam
over
the
banisters
as
she
tripped
upstairs
.
‘
I
shan
’
t
be
avay
more
than
a
day
,
or
two
,
Sir
,
at
the
furthest
,
’
said
Sam
,
when
he
had
communicated
to
Mr
.
Pickwick
the
intelligence
of
his
father
’
s
loss
.
‘
As
long
as
may
be
necessary
,
Sam
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
‘
you
have
my
full
permission
to
remain
.
’
Sam
bowed
.
