Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

A Discovery and a Chase

           Dampchaisestrangehorsesfifteenmilesanhourandtwelveo’clockatnight!’

           Forthefirstthreeorfourmiles,notawordwasspokenbyeitherofthegentlemen,eachbeingtoomuchimmersedinhisownreflectionstoaddressanyobservationstohiscompanion.Whentheyhadgoneoverthatmuchground,however,andthehorsesgettingthoroughlywarmedbegantodotheirworkinreallygoodstyle,Mr.Pickwickbecametoomuchexhilaratedwiththerapidityofthemotion,toremainanylongerperfectlymute.

           ‘We’resuretocatchthem,Ithink,’saidhe.

           ‘Hopeso,’repliedhiscompanion.

           ‘Finenight,’saidMr.Pickwick,lookingupatthemoon,whichwasshiningbrightly.

           ‘Somuchtheworse,’returnedWardle;‘forthey’llhavehadalltheadvantageofthemoonlighttogetthestartofus,andweshallloseit.Itwillhavegonedowninanotherhour.’

           ‘Itwillberatherunpleasantgoingatthisrateinthedark,won’tit?’inquiredMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Idaresayitwill,’repliedhisfrienddryly.

           Mr.Pickwick’stemporaryexcitementbegantosoberdownalittle,ashereflectedupontheinconveniencesanddangersoftheexpeditioninwhichhehadsothoughtlesslyembarked.Hewasrousedbyaloudshoutingofthepost-boyontheleader.

           ‘Yo-yo-yo-yo-yoe!’wentthefirstboy.

           ‘Yo-yo-yo-yoe!’wentthesecond.

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