Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Wherein Mr. Peter Magnus grows jealous, and the middle-aged Lady apprehensive, which brings the Pick

           

           ‘Whatdoyoumeanbythisinsolence?’saidMr.Tupman,startingup;‘leavetheroom!’

           ‘Hollo,’saidMr.Grummer,retreatingveryexpeditiouslytothedoor,andopeningitaninchortwo,‘Dubbley.’

           ‘Well,’saidadeepvoicefromthepassage.

           ‘Comefor’ard,Dubbley.’

           Atthewordofcommand,adirty-facedman,somethingoversixfeethigh,andstoutinproportion,squeezedhimselfthroughthehalf-opendoor(makinghisfaceveryredintheprocess),andenteredtheroom.

           ‘Istheotherspecialsoutside,Dubbley?’inquiredMr.Grummer.

           Mr.Dubbley,whowasamanoffewwords,noddedassent.

           ‘Orderinthediwisionunderyourcharge,Dubbley,’saidMr.Grummer.

           Mr.Dubbleydidashewasdesired;andhalfadozenmen,eachwithashorttruncheonandabrasscrown,flockedintotheroom.Mr.Grummerpocketedhisstaff,andlookedatMr.Dubbley;Mr.Dubbleypocketedhisstaffandlookedatthedivision;thedivisionpocketedtheirstavesandlookedatMessrs.TupmanandPickwick.

           Mr.Pickwickandhisfollowersroseasoneman.

           ‘Whatisthemeaningofthisatrociousintrusionuponmyprivacy?’saidMr.Pickwick.

           ‘Whodaresapprehendme?’saidMr.Tupman.

           ‘Whatdoyouwanthere,scoundrels?’saidMr.Snodgrass.

           Mr.

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