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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Стр. 340/459
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‘
It
has
always
been
the
same
with
me
,
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
,
‘
always
.
‘
Twas
ever
thus
—
from
childhood
’
s
hour
I
’
ve
seen
my
fondest
hopes
decay
,
I
never
loved
a
tree
or
flower
but
‘
twas
the
first
to
fade
away
;
I
never
nursed
a
dear
Gazelle
,
to
glad
me
with
its
soft
black
eye
,
but
when
it
came
to
know
me
well
,
and
love
me
,
it
was
sure
to
marry
a
market
-
gardener
.
’
Overpowered
by
these
reflections
,
Mr
Swiveller
stopped
short
at
the
clients
’
chair
,
and
flung
himself
into
its
open
arms
.
‘
And
this
,
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
,
with
a
kind
of
bantering
composure
,
‘
is
life
,
I
believe
.
Oh
,
certainly
.
Why
not
!
I
’
m
quite
satisfied
.
I
shall
wear
,
’
added
Richard
,
taking
off
his
hat
again
and
looking
hard
at
it
,
as
if
he
were
only
deterred
by
pecuniary
considerations
from
spurning
it
with
his
foot
,
‘
I
shall
wear
this
emblem
of
woman
’
s
perfidy
,
in
remembrance
of
her
with
whom
I
shall
never
again
thread
the
windings
of
the
mazy
;
whom
I
shall
never
more
pledge
in
the
rosy
;
who
,
during
the
short
remainder
of
my
existence
,
will
murder
the
balmy
.
Ha
,
ha
,
ha
!
’
It
may
be
necessary
to
observe
,
lest
there
should
appear
any
incongruity
in
the
close
of
this
soliloquy
,
that
Mr
Swiveller
did
not
wind
up
with
a
cheerful
hilarious
laugh
,
which
would
have
been
undoubtedly
at
variance
with
his
solemn
reflections
,
but
that
,
being
in
a
theatrical
mood
,
he
merely
achieved
that
performance
which
is
designated
in
melodramas
‘
laughing
like
a
fiend
,
’
—
for
it
seems
that
your
fiends
always
laugh
in
syllables
,
and
always
in
three
syllables
,
never
more
nor
less
,
which
is
a
remarkable
property
in
such
gentry
,
and
one
worthy
of
remembrance
.
The
baleful
sounds
had
hardly
died
away
,
and
Mr
Swiveller
was
still
sitting
in
a
very
grim
state
in
the
clients
’
chair
,
when
there
came
a
ring
—
or
,
if
we
may
adapt
the
sound
to
his
then
humour
,
a
knell
—
at
the
office
bell
.
Opening
the
door
with
all
speed
,
he
beheld
the
expressive
countenance
of
Mr
Chuckster
,
between
whom
and
himself
a
fraternal
greeting
ensued
.
‘
You
’
re
devilish
early
at
this
pestiferous
old
slaughter
-
house
,
’
said
that
gentleman
,
poising
himself
on
one
leg
,
and
shaking
the
other
in
an
easy
manner
.
‘
Rather
,
’
returned
Dick
.
‘
Rather
!
’
retorted
Mr
Chuckster
,
with
that
air
of
graceful
trifling
which
so
well
became
him
.
‘
I
should
think
so
.
Why
,
my
good
feller
,
do
you
know
what
o
’
clock
it
is
—
half
-
past
nine
a
.
m
.
in
the
morning
?
’
‘
Won
’
t
you
come
in
?
’
said
Dick
.
‘
All
alone
.
Swiveller
solus
.
“
‘
Tis
now
the
witching
—
“
’
