Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

           ‘Willyouallowmetomakeanoteofit?’

           ‘Certainly,Sir,certainly—hundredmoreanecdotesofthesameanimal.—Finegirl,Sir’(toMr.TracyTupman,whohadbeenbestowingsundryanti–Pickwickianglancesonayoungladybytheroadside).

           ‘Very!’saidMr.Tupman.

           ‘EnglishgirlsnotsofineasSpanish—noblecreatures—jethair—blackeyes—lovelyforms—sweetcreatures—beautiful.’

           ‘YouhavebeeninSpain,sir?’saidMr.TracyTupman.

           ‘Livedthere—ages.’‘Manyconquests,sir?’inquiredMr.Tupman.

           ‘Conquests!Thousands.DonBolaroFizzgig—grandee—onlydaughter—DonnaChristina—splendidcreature—lovedmetodistraction—jealousfather—high-souleddaughter—handsomeEnglishman—DonnaChristinaindespair—prussicacid—stomachpumpinmyportmanteau—operationperformed—oldBolaroinecstasies—consenttoourunion—joinhandsandfloodsoftears—romanticstory—very.’

           ‘IstheladyinEnglandnow,sir?’inquiredMr.Tupman,onwhomthedescriptionofhercharmshadproducedapowerfulimpression.

           ‘Dead,sir—dead,’saidthestranger,applyingtohisrighteyethebriefremnantofaveryoldcambrichandkerchief.‘Neverrecoveredthestomachpump—underminedconstitution—fellavictim.’

           ‘Andherfather?’inquiredthepoeticSnodgrass.