Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

A good-humoured Christmas Chapter, containing an Account of a Wedding, and some other Sports beside:

           

           Butiftheyweresocialandhappyoutsidethehouse,whatwasthewarmthandcordialityoftheirreceptionwhentheyreachedthefarm!TheveryservantsgrinnedwithpleasureatsightofMr.Pickwick;andEmmabestowedahalf-demure,half-impudent,andall-prettylookofrecognition,onMr.Tupman,whichwasenoughtomakethestatueofBonaparteinthepassage,unfoldhisarms,andclaspherwithinthem.

           Theoldladywasseatedwithcustomarystateinthefrontparlour,butshewasrathercross,and,byconsequence,mostparticularlydeaf.Sheneverwentoutherself,andlikeagreatmanyotheroldladiesofthesamestamp,shewasapttoconsideritanactofdomestictreason,ifanybodyelsetookthelibertyofdoingwhatshecouldn’t.So,blessheroldsoul,shesatasuprightasshecould,inhergreatchair,andlookedasfierceasmightbeandthatwasbenevolentafterall.

           ‘Mother,’saidWardle,‘Mr.Pickwick.Yourecollecthim?’

           ‘Nevermind,’repliedtheoldlady,withgreatdignity.‘Don’ttroubleMr.Pickwickaboutanoldcreeturlikeme.Nobodycaresaboutmenow,andit’sverynat’raltheyshouldn’t.’Heretheoldladytossedherhead,andsmootheddownherlavender-colouredsilkdresswithtremblinghands.‘Come,come,ma’am,’saidMr.Pickwick,‘Ican’tletyoucutanoldfriendinthisway.

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Roboto Lora
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