Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Mr. Pickwick journeys to Ipswich and meets with a romantic Adventure with a middle-aged Lady in yell

           Theveryideaofexhibitinghisnightcaptoaladyoverpoweredhim,buthehadtiedthoseconfoundedstringsinaknot,and,dowhathewould,hecouldn’tgetitoff.Thedisclosuremustbemade.Therewasonlyoneotherwayofdoingit.Heshrunkbehindthecurtains,andcalledoutveryloudly

           ‘Ha-hum!’

           Thattheladystartedatthisunexpectedsoundwasevident,byherfallingupagainsttherushlightshade;thatshepersuadedherselfitmusthavebeentheeffectofimaginationwasequallyclear,forwhenMr.Pickwick,undertheimpressionthatshehadfaintedawaystone-deadwithfright,venturedtopeepoutagain,shewasgazingpensivelyonthefireasbefore.

           ‘Mostextraordinaryfemalethis,’thoughtMr.Pickwick,poppinginagain.‘Ha-hum!’

           Theselastsounds,solikethoseinwhich,aslegendsinformus,theferociousgiantBlunderborewasinthehabitofexpressinghisopinionthatitwastimetolaythecloth,weretoodistinctlyaudibletobeagainmistakenfortheworkingsoffancy.

           ‘GraciousHeaven!’saidthemiddle-agedlady,‘what’sthat?’

           ‘It’sit’sonlyagentleman,ma’am,’saidMr.Pickwick,frombehindthecurtains.

           ‘Agentleman!’saidthelady,withaterrificscream.

           ‘It’sallover!’thoughtMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Astrangeman!’shriekedthelady.Anotherinstantandthehousewouldbealarmed.

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