Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

The first Day’s Journey, and the first Evening’s Adventures; with their Consequences

           

           ‘Manyfinewomeninthistown,doyouknow,Sir?’inquiredMr.Tupman,withgreatinterest.

           ‘Splendidcapital.Kent,sireverybodyknowsKentapples,cherries,hops,andwomen.Glassofwine,Sir!’

           ‘Withgreatpleasure,’repliedMr.Tupman.Thestrangerfilled,andemptied.

           ‘Ishouldverymuchliketogo,’saidMr.Tupman,resumingthesubjectoftheball,‘verymuch.’

           ‘Ticketsatthebar,Sir,’interposedthewaiter;‘half-a-guineaeach,Sir.’

           Mr.Tupmanagainexpressedanearnestwishtobepresentatthefestivity;butmeetingwithnoresponseinthedarkenedeyeofMr.Snodgrass,ortheabstractedgazeofMr.Pickwick,heappliedhimselfwithgreatinteresttotheportwineanddessert,whichhadjustbeenplacedonthetable.Thewaiterwithdrew,andthepartywerelefttoenjoythecosycoupleofhourssucceedingdinner.

           ‘Begyourpardon,sir,’saidthestranger,‘bottlestandspassitroundwayofthesunthroughthebutton-holenoheeltaps,’andheemptiedhisglass,whichhehadfilledabouttwominutesbefore,andpouredoutanother,withtheairofamanwhowasusedtoit.

           Thewinewaspassed,andafreshsupplyordered.Thevisitortalked,thePickwickianslistened.Mr.Tupmanfelteverymomentmoredisposedfortheball.Mr.Pickwick’scountenanceglowedwithanexpressionofuniversalphilanthropy,andMr.WinkleandMr.

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