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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 135/459
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Its
internal
accommodations
amply
fulfilled
the
promise
of
the
outside
.
The
rooms
were
low
and
damp
,
the
clammy
walls
were
pierced
with
chinks
and
holes
,
the
rotten
floors
had
sunk
from
their
level
,
the
very
beams
started
from
their
places
and
warned
the
timid
stranger
from
their
neighbourhood
.
To
this
inviting
spot
,
entreating
him
to
observe
its
beauties
as
they
passed
along
,
Mr
Quilp
led
Richard
Swiveller
,
and
on
the
table
of
the
summer
-
house
,
scored
deep
with
many
a
gallows
and
initial
letter
,
there
soon
appeared
a
wooden
keg
,
full
of
the
vaunted
liquor
.
Drawing
it
off
into
the
glasses
with
the
skill
of
a
practised
hand
,
and
mixing
it
with
about
a
third
part
of
water
,
Mr
Quilp
assigned
to
Richard
Swiveller
his
portion
,
and
lighting
his
pipe
from
an
end
of
a
candle
in
a
very
old
and
battered
lantern
,
drew
himself
together
upon
a
seat
and
puffed
away
.
‘
Is
it
good
?
’
said
Quilp
,
as
Richard
Swiveller
smacked
his
lips
,
‘
is
it
strong
and
fiery
?
Does
it
make
you
wink
,
and
choke
,
and
your
eyes
water
,
and
your
breath
come
short
—
does
it
?
’
‘
Does
it
?
’
cried
Dick
,
throwing
away
part
of
the
contents
of
his
glass
,
and
filling
it
up
with
water
,
‘
why
,
man
,
you
don
’
t
mean
to
tell
me
that
you
drink
such
fire
as
this
?
’
‘
No
!
’
rejoined
Quilp
,
‘
Not
drink
it
!
Look
here
.
And
here
.
And
here
again
.
Not
drink
it
!
’
As
he
spoke
,
Daniel
Quilp
drew
off
and
drank
three
small
glassfuls
of
the
raw
spirit
,
and
then
with
a
horrible
grimace
took
a
great
many
pulls
at
his
pipe
,
and
swallowing
the
smoke
,
discharged
it
in
a
heavy
cloud
from
his
nose
.
This
feat
accomplished
he
drew
himself
together
in
his
former
position
,
and
laughed
excessively
.
‘
Give
us
a
toast
!
’
cried
Quilp
,
rattling
on
the
table
in
a
dexterous
manner
with
his
fist
and
elbow
alternately
,
in
a
kind
of
tune
,
‘
a
woman
,
a
beauty
.
Let
’
s
have
a
beauty
for
our
toast
and
empty
our
glasses
to
the
last
drop
.
Her
name
,
come
!
’
‘
If
you
want
a
name
,
’
said
Dick
,
‘
here
’
s
Sophy
Wackles
.
’
‘
Sophy
Wackles
,
’
screamed
the
dwarf
,
‘
Miss
Sophy
Wackles
that
is
—
Mrs
Richard
Swiveller
that
shall
be
—
that
shall
be
—
ha
ha
ha
!
’
