-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Артур Конан Дойл
-
- Tales of Terror and Mystery
-
- Стр. 102/137
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
One
evening
Miss
Witherton
had
gone
down
to
Broadway
,
the
neighbouring
village
,
to
sing
at
a
concert
for
some
charity
,
and
I
,
according
to
my
promise
,
had
walked
over
to
escort
her
back
.
The
drive
sweeps
round
under
the
eastern
turret
,
and
I
observed
as
I
passed
that
the
light
was
lit
in
the
circular
room
.
It
was
a
summer
evening
,
and
the
window
,
which
was
a
little
higher
than
our
heads
,
was
open
.
We
were
,
as
it
happened
,
engrossed
in
our
own
conversation
at
the
moment
and
we
had
paused
upon
the
lawn
which
skirts
the
old
turret
,
when
suddenly
something
broke
in
upon
our
talk
and
turned
our
thoughts
away
from
our
own
affairs
.
It
was
a
voice
—
the
voice
undoubtedly
of
a
woman
.
It
was
low
—
so
low
that
it
was
only
in
that
still
night
air
that
we
could
have
heard
it
,
but
,
hushed
as
it
was
,
there
was
no
mistaking
its
feminine
timbre
.
It
spoke
hurriedly
,
gaspingly
for
a
few
sentences
,
and
then
was
silent
—
a
piteous
,
breathless
,
imploring
sort
of
voice
.
Miss
Witherton
and
I
stood
for
an
instant
staring
at
each
other
.
Then
we
walked
quickly
in
the
direction
of
the
hall
-
door
.
"
It
came
through
the
window
,
"
I
said
.
"
We
must
not
play
the
part
of
eavesdroppers
,
"
she
answered
.
"
We
must
forget
that
we
have
ever
heard
it
.
"
There
was
an
absence
of
surprise
in
her
manner
which
suggested
a
new
idea
to
me
.
"
You
have
heard
it
before
,
"
I
cried
.
"
I
could
not
help
it
.
My
own
room
is
higher
up
on
the
same
turret
.
It
has
happened
frequently
.
"
"
Who
can
the
woman
be
?
"
"
I
have
no
idea
.
I
had
rather
not
discuss
it
.
"
