Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Strongly illustrative of the Position, that the Course of True Love is not a Railway

           Tupmangazedonthefatboy,andthefatboystaredathim;andthelongerMr.Tupmanobservedtheuttervacancyofthefatboy’scountenance,themoreconvincedhebecamethatheeitherdidnotknow,ordidnotunderstand,anythingthathadbeengoingforward.Underthisimpression,hesaidwithgreatfirmness

           ‘Whatdoyouwanthere,Sir?’

           ‘Supper’sready,sir,’wasthepromptreply.

           ‘Haveyoujustcomehere,sir?’inquiredMr.Tupman,withapiercinglook.

           ‘Just,’repliedthefatboy.

           Mr.Tupmanlookedathimveryhardagain;buttherewasnotawinkinhiseye,oracurveinhisface.

           Mr.Tupmantookthearmofthespinsteraunt,andwalkedtowardsthehouse;thefatboyfollowedbehind.

           ‘Heknowsnothingofwhathashappened,‘hewhispered.

           ‘Nothing,’saidthespinsteraunt.

           Therewasasoundbehindthem,asofanimperfectlysuppressedchuckle.Mr.Tupmanturnedsharplyround.No;itcouldnothavebeenthefatboy;therewasnotagleamofmirth,oranythingbutfeedinginhiswholevisage.

           ‘Hemusthavebeenfastasleep,’whisperedMr.Tupman.

           ‘Ihavenottheleastdoubtofit,’repliedthespinsteraunt.

           Theybothlaughedheartily.

           Mr,Tupmanwaswrong.Thefatboy,foronce,hadnotbeenfastasleep.Hewasawakewideawaketowhathadbeengoingforward.

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Roboto Lora
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