Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

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

           Pickwick,althoughI’mdreadfuljealousbynaturehorridthattheladyisinthishouse.’HereMr.Magnustookoffhisspectacles,onpurposetowink,andthenputthemonagain.

           ‘That’swhatyouwererunningoutoftheroomfor,beforedinner,then,sooften,’saidMr.Pickwickarchly.

           ‘Hush!Yes,you’reright,thatwasit;notsuchafoolastoseeher,though.’

           ‘No!’

           ‘No;wouldn’tdo,youknow,afterhavingjustcomeoffajourney.Waittillto-morrow,sir;doublethechancethen.Mr.Pickwick,Sir,thereisasuitofclothesinthatbag,andahatinthatbox,which,Iexpect,intheeffecttheywillproduce,willbeinvaluabletome,sir.’

           ‘Indeed!’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Yes;youmusthaveobservedmyanxietyaboutthemto-day.Idonotbelievethatsuchanothersuitofclothes,andsuchahat,couldbeboughtformoney,Mr.Pickwick.’

           Mr.Pickwickcongratulatedthefortunateowneroftheirresistiblegarmentsontheiracquisition;andMr.PeterMagnusremainedafewmomentsapparentlyabsorbedincontemplation.‘She’safinecreature,’saidMr.Magnus.

           ‘Isshe?’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Very,’saidMr.Magnus.‘very.Shelivesabouttwentymilesfromhere,Mr.Pickwick.Iheardshewouldbehereto-nightandallto-morrowforenoon,andcamedowntoseizetheopportunity.Ithinkaninnisagoodsortofaplacetoproposetoasinglewomanin,Mr.

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