Посмертные записки Пиквикского клуба

A Field Day and Bivouac — More new Friends — An Invitation to the Country

           (Hewasn’tasleepthistime,havingjustsucceededinabstractingavealpatty.)

           ‘Bottleofwinetothegentlemanonthebox.Gladtoseeyou,Sir.’

           ‘Thank’ee.’Mr.Winkleemptiedhisglass,andplacedthebottleonthecoach-box,byhisside.

           ‘Willyoupermitmetohavethepleasure,Sir?’saidMr.TrundletoMr.Winkle.

           ‘Withgreatpleasure,’repliedMr.WinkletoMr.Trundle,andthenthetwogentlementookwine,afterwhichtheytookaglassofwineround,ladiesandall.

           ‘HowdearEmilyisflirtingwiththestrangegentleman,’whisperedthespinsteraunt,withtruespinster-aunt-likeenvy,toherbrother,Mr.Wardle.

           ‘Oh!Idon’tknow,’saidthejollyoldgentleman;‘allverynatural,Idaresaynothingunusual.Mr.Pickwick,somewine,Sir?’Mr.Pickwick,whohadbeendeeplyinvestigatingtheinteriorofthepigeon-pie,readilyassented.

           ‘Emily,mydear,’saidthespinsteraunt,withapatronisingair,‘don’ttalksoloud,love.’

           ‘Lor,aunt!’

           ‘Auntandthelittleoldgentlemanwanttohaveitalltothemselves,Ithink,’whisperedMissIsabellaWardletohersisterEmily.Theyoungladieslaughedveryheartily,andtheoldonetriedtolookamiable,butcouldn’tmanageit.

           ‘Younggirlshavesuchspirits,’saidMissWardletoMr.

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