Посмертні записки Піквікського клубу

In which Mr. Pickwick thinks he had better go to Bath; and goes accordingly

           Pickwickhappenedtobelookinganotherwayatthemoment,soherLadyshipnoddedherheadtowardshim,andfrownedexpressively.

           ‘MyfriendMr.Pickwick,myLady,willbemosthappy,Iamsure,remarkablyso,’saidtheM.C.,takingthehint.‘Mr.Pickwick,LadySnuphanuphMrs.ColonelWugsbyMissBolo.’

           Mr.Pickwickbowedtoeachoftheladies,and,findingescapeimpossible,cut.Mr.PickwickandMissBoloagainstLadySnuphanuphandMrs.ColonelWugsby.Asthetrumpcardwasturnedup,atthecommencementoftheseconddeal,twoyoungladieshurriedintotheroom,andtooktheirstationsoneithersideofMrs.ColonelWugsby’schair,wheretheywaitedpatientlyuntilthehandwasover.

           ‘Now,Jane,’saidMrs.ColonelWugsby,turningtooneofthegirls,‘whatisit?’‘Icametoask,ma,whetherImightdancewiththeyoungestMr.Crawley,’whisperedtheprettierandyoungerofthetwo.

           ‘GoodGod,Jane,howcanyouthinkofsuchthings?’repliedthemammaindignantly.‘Haven’tyourepeatedlyheardthathisfatherhaseighthundredayear,whichdieswithhim?Iamashamedofyou.Notonanyaccount.’

           ‘Ma,’whisperedtheother,whowasmucholderthanhersister,andveryinsipidandartificial,‘LordMutanhedhasbeenintroducedtome.IsaidIthoughtIwasn’tengaged,ma.’

           ‘You’reasweetpet,mylove,’repliedMrs.

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