Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

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

           Perhapsyou’veheardthemspeakofit.’

           ‘Often,’rejoinedMr.Pickwick,smiling.‘Hewasyouruncle,Ithink?’

           ‘No,no;onlyafriendofmyuncle’s,’repliedtheone-eyedman.

           ‘Hewasawonderfulman,thatuncleofyours,though,’remarkedthelandlordshakinghishead.

           ‘Well,Ithinkhewas;IthinkImaysayhewas,’answeredtheone-eyedman.‘Icouldtellyouastoryaboutthatsameuncle,gentlemen,thatwouldrathersurpriseyou.’

           ‘Couldyou?’saidMr.Pickwick.‘Letushearit,byallmeans.’

           Theone-eyedbagmanladledoutaglassofnegusfromthebowl,anddrankit;smokedalongwhiffoutoftheDutchpipe;andthen,callingtoSamWellerwhowaslingeringnearthedoor,thatheneedn’tgoawayunlesshewantedto,becausethestorywasnosecret,fixedhiseyeuponthelandlord’s,andproceeded,inthewordsofthenextchapter.

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