Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Comprising a brief Description of the Company at the Peacock assembled; and a Tale told by a Bagman

           Bethisasitmay,anotherlightwasobtained,andTomwasconductedthroughamazeofrooms,andalabyrinthofpassages,totheapartmentwhichhadbeenpreparedforhisreception,wherethegirlbadehimgood-nightandlefthimalone.

           ‘Itwasagoodlargeroomwithbigclosets,andabedwhichmighthaveservedforawholeboarding-school,tosaynothingofacoupleofoakenpressesthatwouldhaveheldthebaggageofasmallarmy;butwhatstruckTom’sfancymostwasastrange,grim-looking,highbackedchair,carvedinthemostfantasticmanner,withaflowereddamaskcushion,andtheroundknobsatthebottomofthelegscarefullytiedupinredcloth,asifithadgotthegoutinitstoes.Ofanyotherqueerchair,Tomwouldonlyhavethoughtitwasaqueerchair,andtherewouldhavebeenanendofthematter;buttherewassomethingaboutthisparticularchair,andyethecouldn’ttellwhatitwas,sooddandsounlikeanyotherpieceoffurniturehehadeverseen,thatitseemedtofascinatehim.Hesatdownbeforethefire,andstaredattheoldchairforhalfanhour.Damnthechair,itwassuchastrangeoldthing,hecouldn’ttakehiseyesoffit.

           "‘Well,"saidTom,slowlyundressinghimself,andstaringattheoldchairallthewhile,whichstoodwithamysteriousaspectbythebedside,"Ineversawsucharumconcernasthatinmydays.Veryodd,"saidTom,whohadgotrathersagewiththehotpunch—‘veryodd."Tomshookhisheadwithanairofprofoundwisdom,andlookedatthechairagain.

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