-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джек Лондон
-
- Белый клык
-
- Стр. 91/119
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
You
clean
swindled
Beauty
Smith
on
top
of
pushin
'
his
face
in
with
your
fist
.
"
A
recrudescence
of
anger
glinted
in
Weedon
Scott
's
grey
eyes
,
and
he
muttered
savagely
,
"
The
beast
!
"
In
the
late
spring
a
great
trouble
came
to
White
Fang
.
Without
warning
,
the
love-master
disappeared
.
There
had
been
warning
,
but
White
Fang
was
unversed
in
such
things
and
did
not
understand
the
packing
of
a
grip
.
He
remembered
afterwards
that
his
packing
had
preceded
the
master
's
disappearance
;
but
at
the
time
he
suspected
nothing
.
That
night
he
waited
for
the
master
to
return
.
At
midnight
the
chill
wind
that
blew
drove
him
to
shelter
at
the
rear
of
the
cabin
.
There
he
drowsed
,
only
half
asleep
,
his
ears
keyed
for
the
first
sound
of
the
familiar
step
.
But
,
at
two
in
the
morning
,
his
anxiety
drove
him
out
to
the
cold
front
stoop
,
where
he
crouched
,
and
waited
.
But
no
master
came
.
In
the
morning
the
door
opened
and
Matt
stepped
outside
.
White
Fang
gazed
at
him
wistfully
.
There
was
no
common
speech
by
which
he
might
learn
what
he
wanted
to
know
.
The
days
came
and
went
,
but
never
the
master
.
White
Fang
,
who
had
never
known
sickness
in
his
life
,
became
sick
.
He
became
very
sick
,
so
sick
that
Matt
was
finally
compelled
to
bring
him
inside
the
cabin
.
Also
,
in
writing
to
his
employer
,
Matt
devoted
a
postscript
to
White
Fang
.
Weedon
Scott
reading
the
letter
down
in
Circle
City
,
came
upon
the
following
:
"
That
dam
wolf
wo
n't
work
.
Wo
n't
eat
.
Aint
got
no
spunk
left
.
All
the
dogs
is
licking
him
.
Wants
to
know
what
has
become
of
you
,
and
I
do
n't
know
how
to
tell
him
.
Mebbe
he
is
going
to
die
.
"
It
was
as
Matt
had
said
.
White
Fang
had
ceased
eating
,
lost
heart
,
and
allowed
every
dog
of
the
team
to
thrash
him
.
In
the
cabin
he
lay
on
the
floor
near
the
stove
,
without
interest
in
food
,
in
Matt
,
nor
in
life
.
Matt
might
talk
gently
to
him
or
swear
at
him
,
it
was
all
the
same
;
he
never
did
more
than
turn
his
dull
eyes
upon
the
man
,
then
drop
his
head
back
to
its
customary
position
on
his
fore-paws
.
And
then
,
one
night
,
Matt
,
reading
to
himself
with
moving
lips
and
mumbled
sounds
,
was
startled
by
a
low
whine
from
White
Fang
.
He
had
got
upon
his
feet
,
his
ears
cocked
towards
the
door
,
and
he
was
listening
intently
.
A
moment
later
,
Matt
heard
a
footstep
.
The
door
opened
,
and
Weedon
Scott
stepped
in
.
The
two
men
shook
hands
.
Then
Scott
looked
around
the
room
.
"
Where
's
the
wolf
?
"
he
asked
.
Then
he
discovered
him
,
standing
where
he
had
been
lying
,
near
to
the
stove
.
He
had
not
rushed
forward
after
the
manner
of
other
dogs
.
He
stood
,
watching
and
waiting
.
