Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

Which is all about the Law, and sundry Great Authorities learned therein

           Theclerksmiledashesaidthis,andinhaledthepinchofsnuffwithazestwhichseemedtobecompoundedofafondnessforsnuffandarelishforfees.

           ‘Somethinglikepracticethat,’saidPerker.

           ‘Yes,’saidthebarrister’sclerk,producinghisownbox,andofferingitwiththegreatestcordiality;‘andthebestofitis,thatasnobodyaliveexceptmyselfcanreadtheserjeant’swriting,theyareobligedtowaitfortheopinions,whenhehasgiventhem,tillIhavecopied’em,ha-ha-ha!’

           ‘Whichmakesgoodforweknowwho,besidestheserjeant,anddrawsalittlemoreoutoftheclients,eh?’saidPerker;‘ha,ha,ha!’Atthistheserjeant’sclerklaughedagainnotanoisyboisterouslaugh,butasilent,internalchuckle,whichMr.Pickwickdislikedtohear.Whenamanbleedsinwardly,itisadangerousthingforhimself;butwhenhelaughsinwardly,itbodesnogoodtootherpeople.

           ‘Youhaven’tmademeoutthatlittlelistofthefeesthatI’minyourdebt,haveyou?’saidPerker.

           ‘No,Ihavenot,’repliedtheclerk.

           ‘Iwishyouwould,’saidPerker.‘Letmehavethem,andI’llsendyouacheque.ButIsupposeyou’retoobusypocketingthereadymoney,tothinkofthedebtors,eh?ha,ha,ha!’Thissallyseemedtotickletheclerkamazingly,andheoncemoreenjoyedalittlequietlaughtohimself.

           ‘But,Mr.

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Roboto Lora
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