Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Showing how Mr. Samuel Weller got into Difficulties

           TheypassedeachotherontheDoverroad,everyday,fortwenty-fouryears,neverexchanginganyothergreetingthanthis;andyet,whenonedied,theotherpinedaway,andsoonafterwardsfollowedhim!

           ‘Vell,George,’saidMr.Wellersenior,takingoffhisuppercoat,andseatinghimselfwithhisaccustomedgravity.‘Howisit?Allrightbehind,andfullinside?’

           ‘Allright,oldfeller,’repliedtheembarrassedgentleman.

           ‘Isthegraymaremadeovertoanybody?’inquiredMr.Welleranxiously.Georgenoddedintheaffirmative.

           ‘Vell,that’sallright,’saidMr.Weller.‘Coachtakencareon,also?’

           ‘Con-signedinasafequarter,’repliedGeorge,wringingtheheadsoffhalfadozenshrimps,andswallowingthemwithoutanymoreado.

           ‘Werygood,werygood,’saidMr.Weller.‘Alvaysseetothedragvenyougodownhill.Isthevay-billallclearandstraightfor’erd?’

           ‘Theschedule,sir,’saidPell,guessingatMr.Weller’smeaning,‘thescheduleisasplainandsatisfactoryaspenandinkcanmakeit.’

           Mr.Wellernoddedinamannerwhichbespokehisinwardapprovalofthesearrangements;andthen,turningtoMr.Pell,said,pointingtohisfriendGeorge

           ‘Vendoyoutakehisclothsoff?’

           ‘Why,’repliedMr.Pell,‘hestandsthirdontheopposedlist,andIshouldthinkitwouldbehisturninabouthalfanhour.

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