-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Альбер Камю
-
- Чума
-
- Стр. 16/187
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
That
evening
the
concierge
was
delirious
and
,
with
his
temperature
at
40
degrees
,
was
complaining
about
the
rats
.
Rieux
tried
a
fixation
abscess
.
As
the
turpentine
burned
him
,
the
concierge
screamed
:
"
Oh
,
the
swine
!
"
The
lymph
nodes
had
swollen
even
more
and
were
hard
and
wooden
to
the
touch
.
His
wife
was
in
a
terrible
state
.
"
Keep
an
eye
on
him
,
"
said
the
doctor
.
"
And
call
me
if
you
need
.
"
The
following
day
,
April
30
,
an
already
warm
breeze
was
blowing
beneath
a
damp
blue
sky
.
It
brought
a
scent
of
flowers
from
the
most
distant
suburbs
.
The
sounds
of
morning
in
the
streets
seemed
livelier
and
merrier
than
usual
.
Throughout
our
little
town
,
freed
from
the
dull
sense
of
foreboding
which
it
had
endured
for
a
week
,
this
was
a
day
of
rebirth
.
Even
Rieux
,
reassured
by
a
letter
from
his
wife
,
went
down
to
see
the
concierge
in
a
light
-
hearted
mood
.
And
that
morning
,
indeed
,
the
man
’
s
temperature
had
fallen
to
38
degrees
.
Though
weak
,
the
patient
was
smiling
in
his
bed
.
"
He
’
s
improving
,
doctor
,
isn
’
t
he
?
"
said
his
wife
.
"
It
’
s
a
bit
too
soon
to
say
.
"
But
at
noon
the
patient
’
s
temperature
suddenly
rose
to
40
degrees
,
he
was
constantly
delirious
and
vomiting
again
.
The
lymph
nodes
in
his
neck
were
painful
to
the
touch
and
the
concierge
seemed
to
want
to
keep
his
head
as
far
as
possible
away
from
his
body
.
His
wife
was
sitting
at
the
end
of
the
bed
with
her
hands
on
the
blanket
,
gently
holding
the
sick
man
’
s
feet
.
She
looked
at
Rieux
.
"
Listen
,
"
he
said
.
"
We
’
ll
have
to
isolate
him
and
try
some
emergency
treatment
.
I
’
ll
phone
the
hospital
and
we
’
ll
get
him
there
by
ambulance
.
"
Two
hours
later
,
in
the
ambulance
,
the
doctor
and
the
wife
were
leaning
over
the
patient
.
Broken
words
emerged
from
his
mouth
,
which
was
covered
in
a
fungoid
growth
.
"
The
rats
!
"
he
said
.
Greenish
,
with
waxy
lips
,
leaden
eyelids
and
short
,
panting
breath
,
tormented
by
his
lymph
nodes
and
pressed
against
the
back
of
the
stretcher
bed
as
though
he
wanted
to
close
it
around
him
or
as
if
something
rising
from
the
depths
of
the
earth
were
constantly
calling
him
,
the
concierge
was
stifling
beneath
some
invisible
weight
.
His
wife
wept
.
