-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Стейнбек
-
- Гроздья гнева
-
- Стр. 58/563
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
She
came
near
to
him
then
,
and
stood
close
;
and
she
said
passionately
,
"
Tommy
,
don
’
t
you
go
fightin
’
’
em
alone
.
They
’
ll
hunt
you
down
like
a
coyote
.
Tommy
,
I
got
to
thinkin
’
an
’
dreamin
’
an
’
wonderin
’
.
They
say
there
’
s
a
hun
’
erd
thousand
of
us
shoved
out
.
If
we
was
all
mad
the
same
way
,
Tommy
—
they
wouldn
’
t
hunt
nobody
down
—
"
She
stopped
.
Tommy
,
looking
at
her
,
gradually
dropped
his
eyelids
,
until
just
a
short
glitter
showed
through
his
lashes
.
"
Many
folks
feel
that
way
?
"
he
demanded
.
"
I
don
’
t
know
.
They
’
re
jus
’
kinda
stunned
.
Walk
aroun
’
like
they
was
half
asleep
.
"
From
outside
and
across
the
yard
came
an
ancient
creaking
bleat
.
"
Pu
-
raise
Gawd
fur
vittory
!
Pu
-
raise
Gawd
fur
vittory
!
"
Tom
turned
his
head
and
grinned
.
"
Granma
finally
heard
I
’
m
home
.
Ma
,
"
he
said
,
"
you
never
was
like
this
before
!
"
Her
face
hardened
and
her
eyes
grew
cold
.
"
I
never
had
my
house
pushed
over
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
never
had
my
fambly
stuck
out
on
the
road
.
I
never
had
to
sell
—
ever
’
thing
—
Here
they
come
now
.
"
She
moved
back
to
the
stove
and
dumped
the
big
pan
of
bulbous
biscuits
on
two
tin
plates
.
She
shook
flour
into
the
deep
grease
to
make
gravy
,
and
her
hand
was
white
with
flour
.
For
a
moment
Tom
watched
her
,
and
then
he
went
to
the
door
.
Across
the
yard
came
four
people
.
Grampa
was
ahead
,
a
lean
,
ragged
,
quick
old
man
,
jumping
with
quick
steps
and
favoring
his
right
leg
—
the
side
that
came
out
of
joint
.
He
was
buttoning
his
fly
as
he
came
,
and
his
old
hands
were
having
trouble
finding
the
buttons
,
for
he
had
buttoned
the
top
button
into
the
second
buttonhole
,
and
that
threw
the
whole
sequence
off
.
He
wore
dark
ragged
pants
and
a
torn
blue
shirt
,
open
all
the
way
down
,
and
showing
long
gray
underwear
,
also
unbuttoned
.
His
lean
white
chest
,
fuzzed
with
white
hair
,
was
visible
through
the
opening
in
his
underwear
.
He
gave
up
the
fly
and
left
it
open
and
fumbled
with
the
underwear
buttons
,
then
gave
the
whole
thing
up
and
hitched
his
brown
suspenders
.
His
was
a
lean
excitable
face
with
little
bright
eyes
as
evil
as
a
frantic
child
’
s
eyes
.
A
cantankerous
,
complaining
,
mischievous
,
laughing
face
.
He
fought
and
argued
,
told
dirty
stories
.
He
was
as
lecherous
as
always
.
Vicious
and
cruel
and
impatient
,
like
a
frantic
child
,
and
the
whole
structure
overlaid
with
amusement
.
He
drank
too
much
when
he
could
get
it
,
ate
too
much
when
it
was
there
,
talked
too
much
all
the
time
.
Behind
him
hobbled
Granma
,
who
had
survived
only
because
she
was
as
mean
as
her
husband
.
She
had
held
her
own
with
a
shrill
ferocious
religiosity
that
was
as
lecherous
and
as
savage
as
anything
Grampa
could
offer
.
Once
,
after
a
meeting
,
while
she
was
still
speaking
in
tongues
,
she
fired
both
barrels
of
a
shotgun
at
her
husband
,
ripping
one
of
his
buttocks
nearly
off
,
and
after
that
he
admired
her
and
did
not
try
to
torture
her
as
children
torture
bugs
.
As
she
walked
she
hiked
her
Mother
Hubbard
up
to
her
knees
,
and
she
bleated
her
shrill
terrible
war
cry
:
"
Pu
-
raise
Gawd
fur
vittory
.
"
