Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

The first Day’s Journey, and the first Evening’s Adventures; with their Consequences

           Thatgentlemanstarted,stared,retreated,rubbedhiseyes,staredagain,and,finally,shouted,‘Stop,stop!’

           ‘What’sallthis?’saidDoctorSlammer,ashisfriendandMr.Snodgrasscamerunningup;‘that’snottheman.’

           ‘Nottheman!’saidDoctorSlammer’ssecond.

           ‘Nottheman!’saidMr.Snodgrass.

           ‘Nottheman!’saidthegentlemanwiththecamp-stoolinhishand.

           ‘Certainlynot,’repliedthelittledoctor.‘That’snotthepersonwhoinsultedmelastnight.’

           ‘Veryextraordinary!’exclaimedtheofficer.

           ‘Very,’saidthegentlemanwiththecamp-stool.‘Theonlyquestionis,whetherthegentleman,beingontheground,mustnotbeconsidered,asamatterofform,tobetheindividualwhoinsultedourfriend,DoctorSlammer,yesterdayevening,whetherheisreallythatindividualornot;’andhavingdeliveredthissuggestion,withaverysageandmysteriousair,themanwiththecamp-stooltookalargepinchofsnuff,andlookedprofoundlyround,withtheairofanauthorityinsuchmatters.

           NowMr.

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