Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Treats of divers little Matters which occurred in the Fleet, and of Mr. Winkle’s mysterious Behaviou

           Winkle’sbehaviourhadbeenunaccountableinthemorning,itbecameperfectlyunearthlyandsolemnwhen,undertheinfluenceofhisfeelings,andhisshareofthebottleorsix,hepreparedtotakeleaveofhisfriend.Helingeredbehind,untilMr.TupmanandMr.Snodgrasshaddisappeared,andthenferventlyclenchedMr.Pickwick’shand,withanexpressionoffaceinwhichdeepandmightyresolvewasfearfullyblendedwiththeveryconcentratedessenceofgloom.

           ‘Good-night,mydearSir!’saidMr.Winklebetweenhissetteeth.

           ‘Blessyou,mydearfellow!’repliedthewarm-heartedMr.Pickwick,ashereturnedthepressureofhisyoungfriend’shand.

           ‘Nowthen!’criedMr.Tupmanfromthegallery.

           ‘Yes,yes,directly,’repliedMr.Winkle.‘Good-night!’

           ‘Good-night,’saidMr.Pickwick.

           Therewasanothergood-night,andanother,andhalfadozenmoreafterthat,andstillMr.Winklehadfastholdofhisfriend’shand,andwaslookingintohisfacewiththesamestrangeexpression.

           ‘Isanythingthematter?’saidMr.Pickwickatlast,whenhisarmwasquitesorewithshaking.‘Nothing,’saidMr.Winkle.

           ‘Wellthen,good-night,’saidMr.Pickwick,attemptingtodisengagehishand.

           ‘Myfriend,mybenefactor,myhonouredcompanion,’murmuredMr.Winkle,catchingathiswrist.

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