Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Relates how Mr. Pickwick, with the Assistance of Samuel Weller, essayed to soften the Heart of Mr. B

           

           ‘Nottheslightestdangerofthat,ma’am,’repliedBobSawyer.‘Thestomachistheprimarycause.’

           ‘Mr.Sawyer!’exclaimedtheoldlady,starting.

           ‘Nottheleastdoubtofit,ma’am,’rejoinedBob,lookingwondrouswise.‘Medicine,intime,mydearma’am,wouldhavepreventeditall.’

           ‘Mr.Sawyer,’saidtheoldlady,moreflurriedthanbefore,‘thisconductiseithergreatimpertinencetooneinmysituation,Sir,oritarisesfromyournotunderstandingtheobjectofmyvisit.Ifithadbeeninthepowerofmedicine,oranyforesightIcouldhaveused,topreventwhathasoccurred,Ishouldcertainlyhavedoneso.Ihadbetterseemynephewatonce,’saidtheoldlady,twirlingherreticuleindignantly,andrisingasshespoke.

           ‘Stopamoment,ma’am,’saidBobSawyer;‘I’mafraidIhavenotunderstoodyou.WhatISthematter,ma’am?’

           ‘Myniece,Mr.Sawyer,’saidtheoldlady:‘yourfriend’ssister.’

           ‘Yes,ma’am,’saidBob,allimpatience;fortheoldlady,althoughmuchagitated,spokewiththemosttantalisingdeliberation,asoldladiesoftendo.‘Yes,ma’am.’

           ‘Leftmyhome,Mr.Sawyer,threedaysago,onapretendedvisittomysister,anotherauntofhers,whokeepsthelargeboarding-school,justbeyondthethirdmile-stone,wherethereisaverylargelaburnum-treeandanoakgate,’saidtheoldlady,stoppinginthisplacetodryhereyes.

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