-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Стейнбек
-
- Зима тревоги нашей
-
- Стр. 114/385
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
It
may
be
joking
,
Mary
,
but
it
’
s
true
.
That
was
the
worst
crime
,
worse
than
murder
.
I
’
ve
still
got
her
papers
—
only
of
course
they
’
re
in
Russian
.
"
"
Can
you
speak
Russian
?
"
"
Only
a
little
now
.
"
I
said
,
"
Maybe
witchcraft
still
is
the
worst
crime
.
"
"
See
what
I
mean
?
"
said
Mary
.
"
He
jumps
this
side
and
that
side
.
You
never
know
what
he
’
s
thinking
.
Last
night
he
—
he
got
up
before
daylight
this
morning
.
Went
for
a
walk
.
"
"
I
’
m
a
scoundrel
,
"
I
said
.
"
An
unmitigated
,
unredeemable
rascal
.
"
"
Well
,
I
would
like
to
see
Margie
turn
the
cards
—
but
her
own
way
without
you
mixing
in
.
If
we
keep
talking
,
the
children
will
be
home
and
then
we
can
’
t
.
"
"
Excuse
me
a
moment
,
"
I
said
.
I
climbed
the
stairs
to
our
bedroom
.
The
sword
was
on
the
bed
and
the
hatbox
open
on
the
floor
.
I
went
to
the
bathroom
and
flushed
the
toilet
.
You
can
hear
the
water
rushing
all
over
the
house
.
I
wet
a
cloth
in
cold
water
and
pressed
it
against
my
forehead
and
particularly
against
my
eyes
.
They
seemed
to
bulge
from
inside
pressure
.
The
cold
water
felt
good
.
I
sat
on
the
toilet
seat
and
put
my
face
down
against
the
damp
washcloth
and
when
it
warmed
up
I
wet
it
again
.
Going
through
the
bedroom
,
I
picked
the
plumed
Knight
Templar
’
s
hat
from
its
box
and
marched
down
the
stairs
wearing
it
.
"
Oh
,
you
fool
,
"
said
Mary
.
And
she
looked
glad
and
relieved
.
The
ache
went
out
of
the
air
.
"
Can
they
bleach
ostrich
feathers
?
"
I
asked
.
"
It
’
s
turned
yellow
.
"