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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 785/859
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As
Mr
.
Pickwick
was
further
prompted
to
betake
himself
to
Gray
’
s
Inn
Square
by
an
anxious
desire
to
come
to
a
pecuniary
settlement
with
the
kind
-
hearted
little
attorney
without
further
delay
,
he
made
a
hurried
breakfast
,
and
executed
his
intention
so
speedily
,
that
ten
o
’
clock
had
not
struck
when
he
reached
Gray
’
s
Inn
.
It
still
wanted
ten
minutes
to
the
hour
when
he
had
ascended
the
staircase
on
which
Perker
’
s
chambers
were
.
The
clerks
had
not
arrived
yet
,
and
he
beguiled
the
time
by
looking
out
of
the
staircase
window
.
The
healthy
light
of
a
fine
October
morning
made
even
the
dingy
old
houses
brighten
up
a
little
;
some
of
the
dusty
windows
actually
looking
almost
cheerful
as
the
sun
’
s
rays
gleamed
upon
them
.
Clerk
after
clerk
hastened
into
the
square
by
one
or
other
of
the
entrances
,
and
looking
up
at
the
Hall
clock
,
accelerated
or
decreased
his
rate
of
walking
according
to
the
time
at
which
his
office
hours
nominally
commenced
;
the
half
-
past
nine
o
’
clock
people
suddenly
becoming
very
brisk
,
and
the
ten
o
’
clock
gentlemen
falling
into
a
pace
of
most
aristocratic
slowness
.
The
clock
struck
ten
,
and
clerks
poured
in
faster
than
ever
,
each
one
in
a
greater
perspiration
than
his
predecessor
.
The
noise
of
unlocking
and
opening
doors
echoed
and
re
-
echoed
on
every
side
;
heads
appeared
as
if
by
magic
in
every
window
;
the
porters
took
up
their
stations
for
the
day
;
the
slipshod
laundresses
hurried
off
;
the
postman
ran
from
house
to
house
;
and
the
whole
legal
hive
was
in
a
bustle
.
‘
You
’
re
early
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
said
a
voice
behind
him
.
‘
Ah
,
Mr
.
Lowten
,
’
replied
that
gentleman
,
looking
round
,
and
recognising
his
old
acquaintance
.
‘
Precious
warm
walking
,
isn
’
t
it
?
’
said
Lowten
,
drawing
a
Bramah
key
from
his
pocket
,
with
a
small
plug
therein
,
to
keep
the
dust
out
.
‘
You
appear
to
feel
it
so
,
’
rejoined
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
smiling
at
the
clerk
,
who
was
literally
red
-
hot
.
‘
I
’
ve
come
along
,
rather
,
I
can
tell
you
,
’
replied
Lowten
.
‘
It
went
the
half
hour
as
I
came
through
the
Polygon
.
I
’
m
here
before
him
,
though
,
so
I
don
’
t
mind
.
’
Comforting
himself
with
this
reflection
,
Mr
.
Lowten
extracted
the
plug
from
the
door
-
key
;
having
opened
the
door
,
replugged
and
repocketed
his
Bramah
,
and
picked
up
the
letters
which
the
postman
had
dropped
through
the
box
,
he
ushered
Mr
.
Pickwick
into
the
office
.
Here
,
in
the
twinkling
of
an
eye
,
he
divested
himself
of
his
coat
,
put
on
a
threadbare
garment
,
which
he
took
out
of
a
desk
,
hung
up
his
hat
,
pulled
forth
a
few
sheets
of
cartridge
and
blotting
-
paper
in
alternate
layers
,
and
,
sticking
a
pen
behind
his
ear
,
rubbed
his
hands
with
an
air
of
great
satisfaction
.
