Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Mr. Pickwick journeys to Ipswich and meets with a romantic Adventure with a middle-aged Lady in yell

           Weller,afterashortpause,duringwhichhehadsignificantlystruckthesideofhisnosewithhisforefingersomehalf-dozentimes.‘Whatdoyouthinktheydoes,t’otherday,Sammy?’

           ‘Don’tknow,’repliedSam,‘what?’

           ‘Goesandgetsupagrandteadrinkin’forafellertheycallstheirshepherd,’saidMr.Weller.‘Iwasa-standingstarin’inatthepicturshopdownatourplace,whenIseesalittlebillaboutit;"ticketshalf-a-crown.Allapplicationstobemadetothecommittee.Secretary,Mrs.Weller";andwhenIgothometherewasthecommitteea-sittin’inourbackparlour.Fourteenwomen;Iwishyoucouldha’heard’em,Sammy.Theretheywas,a-passin’resolutions,andwotin’supplies,andallsortso’games.Well,whatwithyourmother-in-lawa-worryingmetogo,andwhatwithmylookingfor’ardtoseein’somequeerstartsifIdid,Iputmynamedownforaticket;atsixo’clockontheFridayevenin’Idressesmyselfoutwerysmart,andoffIgoeswiththeold‘ooman,andupwewalksintoafust-floorwheretherewastea-thingsforthirty,andawholeloto’womenasbeginswhisperin’tooneanother,andlookin’atme,asifthey’dneverseenaraytherstoutgen’l’m’nofeight-and-fiftyafore.

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