-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Морской волк
-
- Стр. 42/243
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
appeared
waiting
for
the
words
with
which
to
express
the
thought
that
was
in
him
,
and
finally
went
on
.
"
Do
you
know
,
I
am
filled
with
a
strange
uplift
;
I
feel
as
if
all
time
were
echoing
through
me
,
as
though
all
powers
were
mine
.
I
know
truth
,
divine
good
from
evil
,
right
from
wrong
.
My
vision
is
clear
and
far
.
I
could
almost
believe
in
God
.
But
,
"
and
his
voice
changed
and
the
light
went
out
of
his
face
--
"
what
is
this
condition
in
which
I
find
myself
?
this
joy
of
living
?
this
exultation
of
life
?
this
inspiration
,
I
may
well
call
it
?
It
is
what
comes
when
there
is
nothing
wrong
with
one
's
digestion
,
when
his
stomach
is
in
trim
and
his
appetite
has
an
edge
,
and
all
goes
well
.
It
is
the
bribe
for
living
,
the
champagne
of
the
blood
,
the
effervescence
of
the
ferment
--
that
makes
some
men
think
holy
thoughts
,
and
other
men
to
see
God
or
to
create
him
when
they
can
not
see
him
.
That
is
all
,
the
drunkenness
of
life
,
the
stirring
and
crawling
of
the
yeast
,
the
babbling
of
the
life
that
is
insane
with
consciousness
that
it
is
alive
.
And
--
bah
!
To-morrow
I
shall
pay
for
it
as
the
drunkard
pays
.
And
I
shall
know
that
I
must
die
,
at
sea
most
likely
,
cease
crawling
of
myself
to
be
all
a-crawl
with
the
corruption
of
the
sea
;
to
be
fed
upon
,
to
be
carrion
,
to
yield
up
all
the
strength
and
movement
of
my
muscles
that
it
may
become
strength
and
movement
in
fin
and
scale
and
the
guts
of
fishes
.
Bah
!
And
bah
!
again
.
The
champagne
is
already
flat
.
The
sparkle
and
bubble
has
gone
out
and
it
is
a
tasteless
drink
.
"
He
left
me
as
suddenly
as
he
had
come
,
springing
to
the
deck
with
the
weight
and
softness
of
a
tiger
.
The
Ghost
ploughed
on
her
way
.
I
noted
the
gurgling
forefoot
was
very
like
a
snore
,
and
as
I
listened
to
it
the
effect
of
Wolf
Larsen
's
swift
rush
from
sublime
exultation
to
despair
slowly
left
me
.
Then
some
deep-water
sailor
,
from
the
waist
of
the
ship
,
lifted
a
rich
tenor
voice
in
the
"
Song
of
the
Trade
Wind
"
:
"
Oh
,
I
am
the
wind
the
seamen
love
--
I
am
steady
,
and
strong
,
and
true
;
They
follow
my
track
by
the
clouds
above
,
O'er
the
fathomless
tropic
blue
.
Through
daylight
and
dark
I
follow
the
bark
I
keep
like
a
hound
on
her
trail
;
I
'm
strongest
at
noon
,
yet
under
the
moon
,
