Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

The first Day’s Journey, and the first Evening’s Adventures; with their Consequences

           

           ‘Yourenderedusaveryimportantservicethismorning,sir,’saidhe,‘willyouallowustoofferaslightmarkofourgratitudebybeggingthefavourofyourcompanyatdinner?’

           ‘Greatpleasurenotpresumetodictate,butbroiledfowlandmushroomscapitalthing!Whattime?’

           ‘Letmesee,’repliedMr.Pickwick,referringtohiswatch,‘itisnownearlythree.Shallwesayfive?’

           ‘Suitmeexcellently,’saidthestranger,‘fivepreciselytillthencareofyourselves;’andliftingthepinched-uphatafewinchesfromhishead,andcarelesslyreplacingitverymuchononeside,thestranger,withhalfthebrownpaperparcelstickingoutofhispocket,walkedbrisklyuptheyard,andturnedintotheHighStreet.

           ‘Evidentlyatravellerinmanycountries,andacloseobserverofmenandthings,’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Ishouldliketoseehispoem,’saidMr.Snodgrass.

           ‘Ishouldliketohaveseenthatdog,’saidMr.Winkle.

           Mr.Tupmansaidnothing;buthethoughtofDonnaChristina,thestomachpump,andthefountain;andhiseyesfilledwithtears.

           Aprivatesitting-roomhavingbeenengaged,bedroomsinspected,anddinnerordered,thepartywalkedouttoviewthecityandadjoiningneighbourhood.

           Wedonotfind,fromacarefulperusalofMr.

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Roboto Lora
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