-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Стейнбек
-
- Зима тревоги нашей
-
- Стр. 13/385
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Now
through
the
dusty
room
to
the
swinging
door
of
the
grocery
—
but
at
the
cubicle
of
the
toilet
he
heard
the
whispering
of
seeping
water
.
He
opened
the
plywood
door
,
switched
on
the
light
,
and
flushed
the
toilet
.
Then
he
pushed
open
the
wide
door
with
wire
-
netted
glass
peekhole
and
wedged
it
open
,
kicking
the
wood
block
firmly
in
with
his
toe
.
The
store
was
greeny
from
the
drawn
shades
over
the
big
front
windows
.
Again
shelves
to
the
ceiling
,
filled
neatly
with
gleaming
canned
and
glassed
foods
,
a
library
for
the
stomach
.
On
one
side
—
counter
,
cash
register
,
bags
,
string
,
and
that
glory
in
stainless
steel
and
white
enamel
,
the
cold
cabinet
,
in
which
the
compressor
whispered
to
itself
.
Ethan
flipped
a
switch
and
flooded
the
cold
cuts
,
cheeses
,
sausage
,
chops
,
steaks
,
and
fish
with
a
cold
bluish
neon
glare
.
A
reflected
cathedral
light
filled
the
store
,
a
diffused
cathedral
light
like
that
of
Chartres
.
Ethan
paused
to
admire
it
,
the
organ
pipes
of
canned
tomatoes
,
the
chapels
of
mustard
and
olives
,
the
hundred
oval
tombs
of
sardines
.
"
Unimum
et
unimorum
,
"
he
intoned
in
a
nasal
litanic
tone
.
"
Uni
unimouse
quod
unibug
in
omnem
unim
,
domine
—
ahhhhhmen
,
"
he
sang
.
And
he
could
hear
his
wife
commenting
,
"
That
’
s
silly
and
besides
it
might
hurt
somebody
’
s
feelings
.
You
can
’
t
go
around
hurting
feelings
.
"
A
clerk
in
a
grocery
store
—
Marullo
’
s
grocery
store
—
a
man
with
a
wife
and
two
darling
children
.
When
is
he
alone
,
when
can
he
be
alone
?
Customers
in
the
daytime
,
wife
and
kiddies
in
the
evening
;
wife
at
night
,
customers
in
the
daytime
,
wife
and
kiddies
in
the
evening
.
"
Bathroom
—
that
’
s
when
,
"
Ethan
said
loudly
,
and
right
now
,
before
I
open
the
sluice
.
Oh
!
the
dusky
,
musky
,
smelly
-
welly
,
silly
-
billy
time
—
the
slovenly
-
lovely
time
.
"
Now
whose
feelings
can
I
hurt
,
sugarfoot
?
"
he
said
to
his
wife
.
"
There
ain
’
t
nobody
nor
nobody
’
s
feelings
here
.
Just
me
and
my
unimum
unimorum
until
—
until
I
open
that
goddam
front
door
.
"
From
a
drawer
behind
the
counter
by
the
cash
register
he
took
a
clean
apron
and
unfolded
it
and
straightened
the
tapes
,
put
it
around
his
thin
middle
,
brought
the
tapes
around
and
back
again
.
He
reached
behind
his
back
with
both
hands
and
fumbled
a
bowknot
.
The
apron
was
long
,
halfway
down
his
shins
.
He
raised
his
right
hand
,
cupped
loosely
,
palm
upward
,
and
he
declaimed
,
"
Hear
me
O
ye
canned
pears
,
ye
pickles
and
ye
piccalilli
—
‘
As
soon
as
it
was
day
,
the
elders
of
the
people
and
the
chief
priests
and
the
scribes
came
together
and
led
Him
into
their
council
—
’
as
soon
as
it
was
day
.
The
buggers
went
to
work
early
,
didn
’
t
they
?
They
didn
’
t
waste
no
time
nohow
.
Let
’
s
see
now
.
‘
And
it
was
about
the
sixth
hour
’
—
that
’
s
maybe
twelve
o
’
clock
—
‘
and
there
was
a
darkness
over
all
the
earth
until
the
ninth
hour
.
And
the
sun
was
darkened
.
’
Now
how
do
I
remember
that
?
Good
God
,
it
took
Him
a
long
time
to
die
—
a
dreadful
long
time
.
"
He
dropped
his
hand
and
looked
wondering
at
the
crowded
shelves
as
though
they
might
answer
him
.
"
You
don
’
t
speak
to
me
now
,
Mary
,
my
dumpling
.
Are
you
one
of
the
Daughters
of
Jerusalem
?
‘
Weep
not
for
me
,
’
He
said
.
‘
Weep
for
yourselves
and
for
your
children
.
.
.
.
For
if
they
do
these
things
in
a
green
tree
,
what
shall
be
done
in
the
dry
?
’
Still
breaks
me
up
.
Aunt
Deborah
wrought
better
than
she
knew
.
It
’
s
not
the
sixth
hour
yet
—
not
yet
.
"
He
raised
the
green
shades
on
the
big
windows
,
saying
,
"
Come
in
,
day
!
"
And
then
he
unlocked
the
front
doors
.
"
Enter
,
world
.
"
He
swung
the
iron
-
barred
doors
open
and
latched
them
open
.
And
the
morning
sun
lay
softly
on
the
pavement
as
it
should
,
for
in
April
the
sun
arose
right
where
the
High
Street
ran
into
the
bay
.
Ethan
went
back
to
the
toilet
for
a
broom
to
sweep
the
sidewalk
.
A
day
,
a
livelong
day
,
is
not
one
thing
but
many
.
It
changes
not
only
in
growing
light
toward
zenith
and
decline
again
,
but
in
texture
and
mood
,
in
tone
and
meaning
,
warped
by
a
thousand
factors
of
season
,
of
heat
or
cold
,
of
still
or
multi
winds
,
torqued
by
odors
,
tastes
,
and
the
fabrics
of
ice
or
grass
,
of
bud
or
leaf
or
black
-
drawn
naked
limbs
.
And
as
a
day
changes
so
do
its
subjects
,
bugs
and
birds
,
cats
,
dogs
,
butterflies
and
people
.
