Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Comprising the final Exit of Mr. Jingle and Job Trotter, with a great Morning of business in Gray’s

           

           Dodsonturnedround,benthisheadmeekly,andsmiled.

           ‘Someremarkstome,’repeatedMr.Pickwick,almostbreathless;‘andyourpartnerhastenderedmehishand,andyouhavebothassumedatoneofforgivenessandhigh-mindedness,whichisanextentofimpudencethatIwasnotpreparedfor,eveninyou.’

           ‘What,sir!’exclaimedDodson.

           ‘What,sir!’reiteratedFogg.

           ‘DoyouknowthatIhavebeenthevictimofyourplotsandconspiracies?’continuedMr.Pickwick.‘DoyouknowthatIamthemanwhomyouhavebeenimprisoningandrobbing?Doyouknowthatyouweretheattorneysfortheplaintiff,inBardellandPickwick?’

           ‘Yes,sir,wedoknowit,’repliedDodson.

           ‘Ofcourseweknowit,Sir,’rejoinedFogg,slappinghispocketperhapsbyaccident.

           ‘Iseethatyourecollectitwithsatisfaction,’saidMr.Pickwick,attemptingtocallupasneerforthefirsttimeinhislife,andfailingmostsignallyinsodoing.‘AlthoughIhavelongbeenanxioustotellyou,inplainterms,whatmyopinionofyouis,Ishouldhaveleteventhisopportunitypass,indeferencetomyfriendPerker’swishes,butfortheunwarrantabletoneyouhaveassumed,andyourinsolentfamiliarity.Isayinsolentfamiliarity,sir,’saidMr.Pickwick,turninguponFoggwithafiercenessofgesturewhichcausedthatpersontoretreattowardsthedoorwithgreatexpedition.

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