Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Relates how Mr. Pickwick, with the Assistance of Samuel Weller, essayed to soften the Heart of Mr. B

           

           Theindividualtowhomthisobservationreferred,wassittingattheupperendoftheroomwhenMr.Pickwickentered,andwassmokingalargeDutchpipe,withhiseyeintentlyfixedontheroundfaceofthelandlord;ajolly-lookingoldpersonage,towhomhehadrecentlybeenrelatingsometaleofwonder,aswastestifiedbysundrydisjointedexclamationsof,‘Well,Iwouldn’thavebelievedit!ThestrangestthingIeverheard!Couldn’thavesupposeditpossible!’andotherexpressionsofastonishmentwhichburstspontaneouslyfromhislips,ashereturnedthefixedgazeoftheone-eyedman.

           ‘Servant,sir,’saidtheone-eyedmantoMr.Pickwick.‘Finenight,sir.’

           ‘Verymuchsoindeed,’repliedMr.Pickwick,asthewaiterplacedasmalldecanterofbrandy,andsomehotwaterbeforehim.

           WhileMr.Pickwickwasmixinghisbrandy-and-water,theone-eyedmanlookedroundathimearnestly,fromtimetotime,andatlengthsaid

           ‘IthinkI’veseenyoubefore.’

           ‘Idon’trecollectyou,’rejoinedMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Idaresaynot,’saidtheone-eyedman.‘Youdidn’tknowme,butIknewtwofriendsofyoursthatwerestoppingatthePeacockatEatanswill,atthetimeoftheelection.’

           ‘Oh,indeed!’exclaimedMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Yes,’rejoinedtheone-eyedman.‘ImentionedalittlecircumstancetothemaboutafriendofmineofthenameofTomSmart

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