Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pick

           Dubbleypassed,andthesedanpassed,andthebodyguardofspecialspassed,andSamwasstillrespondingtotheenthusiasticcheersofthemob,andwavinghishataboutasifhewereintheverylastextremeofthewildestjoy(though,ofcourse,hehadnotthefaintestideaofthematterinhand),whenhewassuddenlystoppedbytheunexpectedappearanceofMr.WinkleandMr.Snodgrass.

           ‘What’stherow,gen’l’m’n?‘criedSam.‘Whohavetheygotinthisherewatch-boxinmournin’?’

           Bothgentlemenrepliedtogether,buttheirwordswerelostinthetumult.

           ‘Whoisit?’criedSamagain.

           oncemorewasajointreplyreturned;and,thoughthewordswereinaudible,Samsawbythemotionofthetwopairsoflipsthattheyhadutteredthemagicword‘Pickwick.’

           Thiswasenough.InanotherminuteMr.Wellerhadmadehiswaythroughthecrowd,stoppedthechairmen,andconfrontedtheportlyGrummer.

           ‘Hollo,oldgen’l’m’n!’saidSam.‘Whohaveyougotinthishereconweyance?’

           ‘Standback,’saidMr.Grummer,whosedignity,likethedignityofagreatmanyothermen,hadbeenwondrouslyaugmentedbyalittlepopularity.

           ‘Knockhimdown,ifhedon’t,’saidMr.Dubbley.

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