-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Артур Конан Дойл
-
- Собака Баскервиллей
-
- Стр. 147/157
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
The
blinds
are
up
.
You
know
the
lie
of
the
land
best
.
Creep
forward
quietly
and
see
what
they
are
doing
--
but
for
heaven
's
sake
do
n't
let
them
know
that
they
are
watched
!
"
I
tiptoed
down
the
path
and
stooped
behind
the
low
wall
which
surrounded
the
stunted
orchard
.
Creeping
in
its
shadow
I
reached
a
point
whence
I
could
look
straight
through
the
uncurtained
window
.
There
were
only
two
men
in
the
room
,
Sir
Henry
and
Stapleton
.
They
sat
with
their
profiles
towards
me
on
either
side
of
the
round
table
.
Both
of
them
were
smoking
cigars
,
and
coffee
and
wine
were
in
front
of
them
.
Stapleton
was
talking
with
animation
,
but
the
baronet
looked
pale
and
distrait
.
Perhaps
the
thought
of
that
lonely
walk
across
the
ill-omened
moor
was
weighing
heavily
upon
his
mind
.
As
I
watched
them
Stapleton
rose
and
left
the
room
,
while
Sir
Henry
filled
his
glass
again
and
leaned
back
in
his
chair
,
puffing
at
his
cigar
.
I
heard
the
creak
of
a
door
and
the
crisp
sound
of
boots
upon
gravel
.
The
steps
passed
along
the
path
on
the
other
side
of
the
wall
under
which
I
crouched
.
Looking
over
,
I
saw
the
naturalist
pause
at
the
door
of
an
out-house
in
the
corner
of
the
orchard
.
A
key
turned
in
a
lock
,
and
as
he
passed
in
there
was
a
curious
scuffling
noise
from
within
.
He
was
only
a
minute
or
so
inside
,
and
then
I
heard
the
key
turn
once
more
and
he
passed
me
and
re-entered
the
house
.
I
saw
him
rejoin
his
guest
,
and
I
crept
quietly
back
to
where
my
companions
were
waiting
to
tell
them
what
I
had
seen
.
"
You
say
,
Watson
,
that
the
lady
is
not
there
?
"
Holmes
asked
,
when
I
had
finished
my
report
.
"
No
.
"
"
Where
can
she
be
,
then
,
since
there
is
no
light
in
any
other
room
except
the
kitchen
?
"
"
I
can
not
think
where
she
is
.
"
I
have
said
that
over
the
great
Grimpen
Mire
there
hung
a
dense
,
white
fog
.
It
was
drifting
slowly
in
our
direction
,
and
banked
itself
up
like
a
wall
on
that
side
of
us
,
low
,
but
thick
and
well
defined
.
The
moon
shone
on
it
,
and
it
looked
like
a
great
shimmering
ice-field
,
with
the
heads
of
the
distant
tors
as
rocks
borne
upon
its
surface
.
Holmes
's
face
was
turned
towards
it
,
and
he
muttered
impatiently
as
he
watched
its
sluggish
drift
.
"
It
's
moving
towards
us
,
Watson
.
"
