Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Comprising the final Exit of Mr. Jingle and Job Trotter, with a great Morning of business in Gray’s

           ‘Mrs.Bardell’scosts?’

           ‘No,Idon’tmeanthat,’repliedMr.Lowten.‘Aboutgettingthatcustomerthatwepaidthetenshillingsinthepoundtothebill-discounterfor,onyouraccounttogethimoutoftheFleet,youknowaboutgettinghimtoDemerara.’

           ‘Oh,Mr.Jingle,’saidMr.Pickwickhastily.‘Yes.Well?’

           ‘Well,it’sallarranged,’saidLowten,mendinghispen.‘TheagentatLiverpoolsaidhehadbeenobligedtoyoumanytimeswhenyouwereinbusiness,andhewouldbegladtotakehimonyourrecommendation.’

           ‘That’swell,’saidMr.Pickwick.‘Iamdelightedtohearit.’

           ‘ButIsay,’resumedLowten,scrapingthebackofthepenpreparatorytomakingafreshsplit,‘whatasoftchapthatotheris!’

           ‘Whichother?’

           ‘Why,thatservant,orfriend,orwhateverheis;youknow,Trotter.’

           ‘Ah!’saidMr.Pickwick,withasmile.‘Ialwaysthoughthimthereverse.’

           ‘Well,andsodidI,fromwhatlittleIsawofhim,’repliedLowten,‘itonlyshowshowonemaybedeceived.WhatdoyouthinkofhisgoingtoDemerara,too?’

           ‘What!Andgivingupwhatwasofferedhimhere!’exclaimedMr.Pickwick.

           ‘TreatingPerker’sofferofeighteenbobaweek,andariseifhebehavedhimself,likedirt,’repliedLowten.

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