-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Джон Бакен
-
- Тридцать девять ступеней
-
- Стр. 52/83
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
road
led
through
a
wood
of
great
beeches
and
then
into
a
shallow
valley
,
with
the
green
backs
of
downs
peeping
over
the
distant
trees
.
After
Scotland
the
air
smelt
heavy
and
flat
,
but
infinitely
sweet
,
for
the
limes
and
chestnuts
and
lilac
bushes
were
domes
of
blossom
.
Presently
I
came
to
a
bridge
,
below
which
a
clear
slow
stream
flowed
between
snowy
beds
of
water-buttercups
.
A
little
above
it
was
a
mill
;
and
the
lasher
made
a
pleasant
cool
sound
in
the
scented
dusk
.
Somehow
the
place
soothed
me
and
put
me
at
my
ease
.
I
fell
to
whistling
as
I
looked
into
the
green
depths
,
and
the
tune
which
came
to
my
lips
was
"
Annie
Laurie
"
.
A
fisherman
came
up
from
the
waterside
,
and
as
he
neared
me
he
too
began
to
whistle
.
The
tune
was
infectious
,
for
he
followed
my
suit
.
He
was
a
huge
man
in
untidy
old
flannels
and
a
wide-brimmed
hat
,
with
a
canvas
bag
slung
on
his
shoulder
.
He
nodded
to
me
,
and
I
thought
I
had
never
seen
a
shrewder
or
better-tempered
face
.
He
leaned
his
delicate
ten-foot
split-cane
rod
against
the
bridge
,
and
looked
with
me
at
the
water
.
"
Clear
,
is
n't
it
?
"
he
said
pleasantly
.
"
I
back
our
Kennet
any
day
against
the
Test
.
Look
at
that
big
fellow
.
Four
pounds
if
he
's
an
ounce
.
But
the
evening
rise
is
over
and
you
ca
n't
tempt
'em
.
"
"
I
do
n't
see
him
,
"
said
I.
"
Look
!
There
!
A
yard
from
the
reeds
just
above
that
stickle
.
"
"
I
've
got
him
now
.
You
might
swear
he
was
a
black
stone
.
"
"
So
,
"
he
said
,
and
whistled
another
bar
of
"
Annie
Laurie
"
.
"
Twisdon
's
the
name
,
is
n't
it
?
"
he
said
over
his
shoulder
,
his
eyes
still
fixed
on
the
stream
.
"
No
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
mean
to
say
,
Yes
.
"
I
had
forgotten
all
about
my
alias
.
