Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pick

           MagnusharnessedhisforefingertoMr.Pickwick’sbuttonhole,and,drawinghimtoawindowrecess,said

           ‘Congratulateme,Mr.Pickwick;Ifollowedyouradvicetotheveryletter.’

           ‘Anditwasallcorrect,wasit?’inquiredMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Itwas,Sir.Couldnotpossiblyhavebeenbetter,’repliedMr.Magnus.‘Mr.Pickwick,sheismine.’

           ‘Icongratulateyou,withallmyheart,’repliedMr.Pickwick,warmlyshakinghisnewfriendbythehand.

           ‘Youmustseeher.Sir,’saidMr.Magnus;‘thisway,ifyouplease.Excuseusforoneinstant,gentlemen.’Hurryingoninthisway,Mr.PeterMagnusdrewMr.Pickwickfromtheroom.Hepausedatthenextdoorinthepassage,andtappedgentlythereat.

           ‘Comein,’saidafemalevoice.Andintheywent.

           ‘MissWitherfield,’saidMr.Magnus,‘allowmetointroducemyveryparticularfriend,Mr.Pickwick.Mr.Pickwick,IbegtomakeyouknowntoMissWitherfield.’

           Theladywasattheupperendoftheroom.AsMr.Pickwickbowed,hetookhisspectaclesfromhiswaistcoatpocket,andputthemon;aprocesswhichhehadnosoonergonethrough,than,utteringanexclamationofsurprise,Mr.Pickwickretreatedseveralpaces,andthelady,withahalf-suppressedscream,hidherfaceinherhands,anddroppedintoachair;whereuponMr.

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