-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Чарльз Диккенс
-
- Оливер Твист
-
- Стр. 190/420
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
girl
moaned
out
some
half
intelligible
reply
,
that
she
could
not
tell
;
and
seemed
,
from
the
smothered
noise
that
escaped
her
,
to
be
crying
.
'
And
the
boy
,
too
,
'
said
the
Jew
,
straining
his
eyes
to
catch
a
glimpse
of
her
face
.
'
Poor
leetle
child
!
Left
in
a
ditch
,
Nance
;
only
think
!
'
'
The
child
,
'
said
the
girl
,
suddenly
looking
up
,
'
is
better
where
he
is
,
than
among
us
;
and
if
no
harm
comes
to
Bill
from
it
,
I
hope
he
lies
dead
in
the
ditch
and
that
his
young
bones
may
rot
there
.
'
'
What
!
'
cried
the
Jew
,
in
amazement
.
'
Ay
,
I
do
,
'
returned
the
girl
,
meeting
his
gaze
.
'
I
shall
be
glad
to
have
him
away
from
my
eyes
,
and
to
know
that
the
worst
is
over
.
I
ca
n't
bear
to
have
him
about
me
.
The
sight
of
him
turns
me
against
myself
,
and
all
of
you
.
'
'
Pooh
!
'
said
the
Jew
,
scornfully
.
'
You
're
drunk
.
'
'
Am
I
?
'
cried
the
girl
bitterly
.
'
It
's
no
fault
of
yours
,
if
I
am
not
!
You
'd
never
have
me
anything
else
,
if
you
had
your
will
,
except
now
;
--
the
humour
does
n't
suit
you
,
does
n't
it
?
'
'
No
!
'
rejoined
the
Jew
,
furiously
.
'
It
does
not
.
'
'
Change
it
,
then
!
'
responded
the
girl
,
with
a
laugh
.
