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- Джон Стейнбек
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- Стр. 561/563
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You
got
a
dry
blanket
we
could
use
an
’
get
her
wet
clothes
off
?
»
The
boy
went
back
to
the
corner
and
brought
a
dirty
comfort
and
held
it
out
to
Ma
.
«
Thank
ya
,
"
she
said
.
«
What
’
s
the
matter
’
th
that
fella
?
»
The
boy
spoke
in
a
croaking
monotone
.
«
Fust
he
was
sick
—
but
now
he
’
s
starvin
’
.
»
«
What
?
»
«
Starvin
’
.
Got
sick
in
the
cotton
.
He
ain
’
t
et
for
six
days
.
»
Ma
walked
to
the
corner
and
looked
down
at
the
man
.
He
was
about
fifty
,
his
whiskery
face
gaunt
,
and
his
open
eyes
were
vague
and
staring
.
The
boy
stood
beside
her
.
«
Your
pa
?
»
Ma
asked
.
«
Yeah
!
Says
he
wasn
’
hungry
,
or
he
jus
’
et
.
Give
me
the
food
.
Now
he
’
s
too
weak
.
Can
’
t
hardly
move
.
»
The
pounding
of
the
rain
decreased
to
a
soothing
swish
on
the
roof
.
The
gaunt
man
moved
his
lips
.
Ma
knelt
beside
him
and
put
her
ear
close
.
His
lips
moved
again
.
«
Sure
,
"
Ma
said
.
«
You
jus
’
be
easy
.
He
’
ll
be
awright
.
You
jus
’
wait
’
ll
I
get
them
wet
clo
’
es
off
’
n
my
girl
.
»