-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Морской волк
-
- Стр. 169/243
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Yes
,
and
only
one
hundred
and
forty
miles
if
it
continues
for
three
days
and
nights
.
"
"
But
it
wo
n't
continue
,
"
she
said
with
easy
confidence
.
"
It
will
turn
around
and
blow
fair
.
"
"
The
sea
is
the
great
faithless
one
.
"
"
But
the
wind
!
"
she
retorted
.
"
I
have
heard
you
grow
eloquent
over
the
brave
trade-wind
.
"
"
I
wish
I
had
thought
to
bring
Wolf
Larsen
's
chronometer
and
sextant
,
"
I
said
,
still
gloomily
.
"
Sailing
one
direction
,
drifting
another
direction
,
to
say
nothing
of
the
set
of
the
current
in
some
third
direction
,
makes
a
resultant
which
dead
reckoning
can
never
calculate
.
Before
long
we
wo
n't
know
where
we
are
by
five
hundred
miles
.
"
Then
I
begged
her
pardon
and
promised
I
should
not
be
disheartened
any
more
.
At
her
solicitation
I
let
her
take
the
watch
till
midnight
--
it
was
then
nine
o'clock
,
but
I
wrapped
her
in
blankets
and
put
an
oilskin
about
her
before
I
lay
down
.
I
slept
only
cat-naps
.
The
boat
was
leaping
and
pounding
as
it
fell
over
the
crests
,
I
could
hear
the
seas
rushing
past
,
and
spray
was
continually
being
thrown
aboard
.
And
still
,
it
was
not
a
bad
night
,
I
mused
--
nothing
to
the
nights
I
had
been
through
on
the
Ghost
;
nothing
,
perhaps
,
to
the
nights
we
should
go
through
in
this
cockle-shell
.
Its
planking
was
three-quarters
of
an
inch
thick
.
Between
us
and
the
bottom
of
the
sea
was
less
than
an
inch
of
wood
.
And
yet
,
I
aver
it
,
and
I
aver
it
again
,
I
was
unafraid
.
The
death
which
Wolf
Larsen
and
even
Thomas
Mugridge
had
made
me
fear
,
I
no
longer
feared
.
The
coming
of
Maud
Brewster
into
my
life
seemed
to
have
transformed
me
.
After
all
,
I
thought
,
it
is
better
and
finer
to
love
than
to
be
loved
,
if
it
makes
something
in
life
so
worth
while
that
one
is
not
loath
to
die
for
it
I
forget
my
own
life
in
the
love
of
another
life
;
and
yet
,
such
is
the
paradox
,
I
never
wanted
so
much
to
live
as
right
now
when
I
place
the
least
value
upon
my
own
life
.
I
never
had
so
much
reason
for
living
,
was
my
concluding
thought
;
and
after
that
,
until
I
dozed
,
I
contented
myself
with
trying
to
pierce
the
darkness
to
where
I
knew
Maud
crouched
low
in
the
stern-sheets
,
watchful
of
the
foaming
sea
and
ready
to
call
me
on
an
instant
's
notice
.
There
is
no
need
of
going
into
an
extended
recital
of
our
suffering
in
the
small
boat
during
the
many
days
we
were
driven
and
drifted
,
here
and
there
,
willy-nilly
,
across
the
ocean
.
The
high
wind
blew
from
the
north-west
for
twenty-four
hours
,
when
it
fell
calm
,
and
in
the
night
sprang
up
from
the
south-west
.
This
was
dead
in
our
teeth
,
but
I
took
in
the
sea-anchor
and
set
sail
,
hauling
a
course
on
the
wind
which
took
us
in
a
south-south-easterly
direction
.
It
was
an
even
choice
between
this
and
the
west-north-westerly
course
which
the
wind
permitted
;
but
the
warm
airs
of
the
south
fanned
my
desire
for
a
warmer
sea
and
swayed
my
decision
.
In
three
hours
--
it
was
midnight
,
I
well
remember
,
and
as
dark
as
I
had
ever
seen
it
on
the
sea
--
the
wind
,
still
blowing
out
of
the
south-west
,
rose
furiously
,
and
once
again
I
was
compelled
to
set
the
sea-anchor
.
