Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

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

           Aftersundryaccountsofhimself,hisfamily,hisconnections,hisfriends,hisjokes,hisbusiness,andhisbrothers(mosttalkativemenhaveagreatdealtosayabouttheirbrothers),Mr.PeterMagnustookaviewofMr.Pickwickthroughhiscolouredspectaclesforseveralminutes,andthensaid,withanairofmodesty

           ‘AndwhatdoyouthinkwhatDOyouthink,Mr.PickwickIhavecomedownherefor?’

           ‘Uponmyword,’saidMr.Pickwick,‘itiswhollyimpossibleformetoguess;onbusiness,perhaps.’

           ‘Partlyright,Sir,’repliedMr.PeterMagnus,‘butpartlywrongatthesametime;tryagain,Mr.Pickwick.’

           ‘Really,’saidMr.Pickwick,‘Imustthrowmyselfonyourmercy,totellmeornot,asyoumaythinkbest;forIshouldneverguess,ifIweretotryallnight.’

           ‘Why,then,he-he-he!’saidMr.PeterMagnus,withabashfultitter,‘whatshouldyouthink,Mr.Pickwick,ifIhadcomedownheretomakeaproposal,Sir,eh?He,he,he!’

           ‘Think!Thatyouareverylikelytosucceed,’repliedMr.Pickwick,withoneofhisbeamingsmiles.‘Ah!’saidMr.Magnus.‘Butdoyoureallythinkso,Mr.Pickwick?Doyou,though?’

           ‘Certainly,’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘No;butyou’rejoking,though.’

           ‘Iamnot,indeed.’

           ‘Why,then,’saidMr.Magnus,‘toletyouintoalittlesecret,Ithinksotoo.Idon’tmindtellingyou,Mr.

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