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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 15/459
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‘
Fred
!
’
cried
Mr
Swiveller
,
tapping
his
nose
,
‘
a
word
to
the
wise
is
sufficient
for
them
—
we
may
be
good
and
happy
without
riches
,
Fred
.
Say
not
another
syllable
.
I
know
my
cue
;
smart
is
the
word
.
Only
one
little
whisper
,
Fred
—
is
the
old
min
friendly
?
’
‘
Never
you
mind
,
’
replied
his
friend
.
‘
Right
again
,
quite
right
,
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
,
‘
caution
is
the
word
,
and
caution
is
the
act
.
’
with
that
,
he
winked
as
if
in
preservation
of
some
deep
secret
,
and
folding
his
arms
and
leaning
back
in
his
chair
,
looked
up
at
the
ceiling
with
profound
gravity
.
It
was
perhaps
not
very
unreasonable
to
suspect
from
what
had
already
passed
,
that
Mr
Swiveller
was
not
quite
recovered
from
the
effects
of
the
powerful
sunlight
to
which
he
had
made
allusion
;
but
if
no
such
suspicion
had
been
awakened
by
his
speech
,
his
wiry
hair
,
dull
eyes
,
and
sallow
face
would
still
have
been
strong
witnesses
against
him
.
His
attire
was
not
,
as
he
had
himself
hinted
,
remarkable
for
the
nicest
arrangement
,
but
was
in
a
state
of
disorder
which
strongly
induced
the
idea
that
he
had
gone
to
bed
in
it
.
It
consisted
of
a
brown
body
-
coat
with
a
great
many
brass
buttons
up
the
front
and
only
one
behind
,
a
bright
check
neckerchief
,
a
plaid
waistcoat
,
soiled
white
trousers
,
and
a
very
limp
hat
,
worn
with
the
wrong
side
foremost
,
to
hide
a
hole
in
the
brim
.
The
breast
of
his
coat
was
ornamented
with
an
outside
pocket
from
which
there
peeped
forth
the
cleanest
end
of
a
very
large
and
very
ill
-
favoured
handkerchief
;
his
dirty
wristbands
were
pulled
on
as
far
as
possible
and
ostentatiously
folded
back
over
his
cuffs
;
he
displayed
no
gloves
,
and
carried
a
yellow
cane
having
at
the
top
a
bone
hand
with
the
semblance
of
a
ring
on
its
little
finger
and
a
black
ball
in
its
grasp
.
With
all
these
personal
advantages
(
to
which
may
be
added
a
strong
savour
of
tobacco
-
smoke
,
and
a
prevailing
greasiness
of
appearance
)
Mr
Swiveller
leant
back
in
his
chair
with
his
eyes
fixed
on
the
ceiling
,
and
occasionally
pitching
his
voice
to
the
needful
key
,
obliged
the
company
with
a
few
bars
of
an
intensely
dismal
air
,
and
then
,
in
the
middle
of
a
note
,
relapsed
into
his
former
silence
.
The
old
man
sat
himself
down
in
a
chair
,
and
with
folded
hands
,
looked
sometimes
at
his
grandson
and
sometimes
at
his
strange
companion
,
as
if
he
were
utterly
powerless
and
had
no
resource
but
to
leave
them
to
do
as
they
pleased
.
The
young
man
reclined
against
a
table
at
no
great
distance
from
his
friend
,
in
apparent
indifference
to
everything
that
had
passed
;
and
I
—
who
felt
the
difficulty
of
any
interference
,
notwithstanding
that
the
old
man
had
appealed
to
me
,
both
by
words
and
looks
—
made
the
best
feint
I
could
of
being
occupied
in
examining
some
of
the
goods
that
were
disposed
for
sale
,
and
paying
very
little
attention
to
a
person
before
me
.
The
silence
was
not
of
long
duration
,
for
Mr
Swiveller
,
after
favouring
us
with
several
melodious
assurances
that
his
heart
was
in
the
Highlands
,
and
that
he
wanted
but
his
Arab
steed
as
a
preliminary
to
the
achievement
of
great
feats
of
valour
and
loyalty
,
removed
his
eyes
from
the
ceiling
and
subsided
into
prose
again
.
‘
Fred
,
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
stopping
short
,
as
if
the
idea
had
suddenly
occurred
to
him
,
and
speaking
in
the
same
audible
whisper
as
before
,
‘
is
the
old
min
friendly
?
’
‘
What
does
it
matter
?
’
returned
his
friend
peevishly
.
