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- Чарльз Диккенс
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He
had
scarcely
got
outside
the
door
,
when
he
heard
Wardle
’
s
voice
talking
loudly
,
and
looking
over
the
banisters
beheld
him
,
followed
by
some
other
gentlemen
,
coming
straight
upstairs
.
Knowing
nothing
of
the
house
,
Mr
.
Snodgrass
in
his
confusion
stepped
hastily
back
into
the
room
he
had
just
quitted
,
and
passing
thence
into
an
inner
apartment
(
Mr
.
Wardle
’
s
bedchamber
)
,
closed
the
door
softly
,
just
as
the
persons
he
had
caught
a
glimpse
of
entered
the
sitting
-
room
.
These
were
Mr
.
Wardle
,
Mr
.
Pickwick
,
Mr
.
Nathaniel
Winkle
,
and
Mr
.
Benjamin
Allen
,
whom
he
had
no
difficulty
in
recognising
by
their
voices
.
‘
Very
lucky
I
had
the
presence
of
mind
to
avoid
them
,
’
thought
Mr
.
Snodgrass
with
a
smile
,
and
walking
on
tiptoe
to
another
door
near
the
bedside
;
‘
this
opens
into
the
same
passage
,
and
I
can
walk
quietly
and
comfortably
away
.
’
There
was
only
one
obstacle
to
his
walking
quietly
and
comfortably
away
,
which
was
that
the
door
was
locked
and
the
key
gone
.
‘
Let
us
have
some
of
your
best
wine
to
-
day
,
waiter
,
’
said
old
Wardle
,
rubbing
his
hands
.
‘
You
shall
have
some
of
the
very
best
,
sir
,
’
replied
the
waiter
.
‘
Let
the
ladies
know
we
have
come
in
.
’
‘
Yes
,
Sir
.
’
Devoutly
and
ardently
did
Mr
.
Snodgrass
wish
that
the
ladies
could
know
he
had
come
in
.
He
ventured
once
to
whisper
,
‘
Waiter
!
’
through
the
keyhole
,
but
the
probability
of
the
wrong
waiter
coming
to
his
relief
,
flashed
upon
his
mind
,
together
with
a
sense
of
the
strong
resemblance
between
his
own
situation
and
that
in
which
another
gentleman
had
been
recently
found
in
a
neighbouring
hotel
(
an
account
of
whose
misfortunes
had
appeared
under
the
head
of
‘
Police
’
in
that
morning
’
s
paper
)
,
he
sat
himself
on
a
portmanteau
,
and
trembled
violently
.
‘
We
won
’
t
wait
a
minute
for
Perker
,
’
said
Wardle
,
looking
at
his
watch
;
‘
he
is
always
exact
.
He
will
be
here
,
in
time
,
if
he
means
to
come
;
and
if
he
does
not
,
it
’
s
of
no
use
waiting
.
Ha
!
Arabella
!
’
