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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба
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- Стр. 786/859
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‘
There
,
you
see
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
’
he
said
,
‘
now
I
’
m
complete
.
I
’
ve
got
my
office
coat
on
,
and
my
pad
out
,
and
let
him
come
as
soon
as
he
likes
.
You
haven
’
t
got
a
pinch
of
snuff
about
you
,
have
you
?
’
‘
No
,
I
have
not
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
I
’
m
sorry
for
it
,
’
said
Lowten
.
‘
Never
mind
.
I
’
ll
run
out
presently
,
and
get
a
bottle
of
soda
.
Don
’
t
I
look
rather
queer
about
the
eyes
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
?
’
The
individual
appealed
to
,
surveyed
Mr
.
Lowten
’
s
eyes
from
a
distance
,
and
expressed
his
opinion
that
no
unusual
queerness
was
perceptible
in
those
features
.
‘
I
’
m
glad
of
it
,
’
said
Lowten
.
‘
We
were
keeping
it
up
pretty
tolerably
at
the
Stump
last
night
,
and
I
’
m
rather
out
of
sorts
this
morning
.
Perker
’
s
been
about
that
business
of
yours
,
by
the
bye
.
’
‘
What
business
?
’
inquired
Mr
.
Pickwick
.
‘
Mrs
.
Bardell
’
s
costs
?
’
‘
No
,
I
don
’
t
mean
that
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Lowten
.
‘
About
getting
that
customer
that
we
paid
the
ten
shillings
in
the
pound
to
the
bill
-
discounter
for
,
on
your
account
—
to
get
him
out
of
the
Fleet
,
you
know
—
about
getting
him
to
Demerara
.
’
‘
Oh
,
Mr
.
Jingle
,
’
said
Mr
.
Pickwick
hastily
.
‘
Yes
.
Well
?
’
‘
Well
,
it
’
s
all
arranged
,
’
said
Lowten
,
mending
his
pen
.
‘
The
agent
at
Liverpool
said
he
had
been
obliged
to
you
many
times
when
you
were
in
business
,
and
he
would
be
glad
to
take
him
on
your
recommendation
.
’
