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- Чарльз Диккенс
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- Лавка древностей
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- Стр. 355/459
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As
a
precaution
against
this
latter
inconvenience
,
Mr
Swiveller
had
been
sitting
for
some
time
with
his
feet
on
the
hob
,
in
which
attitude
he
now
gave
utterance
to
these
apologetic
observations
,
and
slowly
sipped
the
last
choice
drops
of
nectar
.
‘
The
Baron
Sampsono
Brasso
and
his
fair
sister
are
(
you
tell
me
)
at
the
Play
?
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
,
leaning
his
left
arm
heavily
upon
the
table
,
and
raising
his
voice
and
his
right
leg
after
the
manner
of
a
theatrical
bandit
.
The
Marchioness
nodded
.
‘
Ha
!
’
said
Mr
Swiveller
,
with
a
portentous
frown
.
‘
’
Tis
well
.
Marchioness
!
—
but
no
matter
.
Some
wine
there
.
Ho
!
’
He
illustrated
these
melodramatic
morsels
by
handing
the
tankard
to
himself
with
great
humility
,
receiving
it
haughtily
,
drinking
from
it
thirstily
,
and
smacking
his
lips
fiercely
.
The
small
servant
,
who
was
not
so
well
acquainted
with
theatrical
conventionalities
as
Mr
Swiveller
(
having
indeed
never
seen
a
play
,
or
heard
one
spoken
of
,
except
by
chance
through
chinks
of
doors
and
in
other
forbidden
places
)
,
was
rather
alarmed
by
demonstrations
so
novel
in
their
nature
,
and
showed
her
concern
so
plainly
in
her
looks
,
that
Mr
Swiveller
felt
it
necessary
to
discharge
his
brigand
manner
for
one
more
suitable
to
private
life
,
as
he
asked
,
‘
Do
they
often
go
where
glory
waits
‘
em
,
and
leave
you
here
?
’
‘
Oh
,
yes
;
I
believe
you
they
do
,
’
returned
the
small
servant
.
‘
Miss
Sally
’
s
such
a
one
-
er
for
that
,
she
is
.
’
‘
Such
a
what
?
’
said
Dick
.
‘
Such
a
one
-
er
,
’
returned
the
Marchioness
.
