-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Фоулз
-
- Коллекционер
-
- Стр. 138/299
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
doesn
’
t
believe
in
God
.
That
makes
me
want
to
believe
.
I
talked
about
me
.
About
D
and
M
,
in
a
bright
little
matter
-
of
-
fact
voice
.
He
knew
about
M
.
I
suppose
the
whole
town
knows
.
My
theory
is
that
I
have
to
unmartyr
him
.
The
time
in
prison
.
Endless
time
.
The
first
morning
.
He
knocked
on
the
door
and
waited
ten
minutes
(
as
he
always
does
)
.
It
wasn
’
t
a
nice
ten
minutes
,
all
the
consoling
thoughts
I
’
d
scraped
together
during
the
night
tan
away
and
I
was
left
alone
.
I
stood
there
and
said
,
if
he
does
,
don
’
t
resist
,
don
’
t
resist
.
I
was
going
to
say
,
do
what
you
like
,
but
don
’
t
kill
me
.
Don
’
t
kill
me
,
you
can
do
it
again
.
As
if
I
was
washable
.
Hard
-
wearing
.
It
was
all
different
.
When
he
came
in
he
just
stood
there
looking
gawky
and
then
at
once
,
seeing
him
without
a
hat
on
,
I
knew
who
he
was
.
I
suppose
I
memorize
people
’
s
features
without
thinking
.
I
knew
he
was
the
clerk
from
the
Town
Hall
Annexe
.
The
fabulous
pools
win
.
His
photo
in
the
paper
.
We
all
said
we
’
d
seen
him
about
.
He
tried
to
deny
it
,
but
he
went
red
.
He
blushes
at
everything
.
Simple
as
sneezing
to
put
him
on
the
defensive
.
His
face
has
a
sort
of
natural
"
hurt
"
set
.
Sheepish
.
No
,
giraffish
.
Like
a
lanky
gawky
giraffe
.
I
kept
on
popping
questions
,
he
wouldn
’
t
answer
,
all
he
could
do
was
look
as
if
I
had
no
right
to
ask
.
As
if
this
wasn
’
t
at
all
what
he
’
d
bargained
for
.
He
’
s
never
had
anything
to
do
with
girls
.
With
girls
like
me
,
anyway
.
