-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Стейнбек
-
- Зима тревоги нашей
-
- Стр. 160/385
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
You
’
ll
have
to
get
rid
of
them
,
"
Mary
said
.
I
brought
out
my
12
-
bore
,
sticky
with
grease
,
and
found
some
old
thickened
shells
with
number
five
shot
.
In
the
evening
I
sat
on
the
back
steps
and
when
the
rabbits
were
in
line
I
blasted
both
of
them
with
one
shot
.
Then
I
buried
the
furry
ruins
under
the
big
lilac
and
I
was
miserable
in
the
stomach
.
It
was
simply
that
I
had
grown
unused
to
killing
things
.
A
man
can
get
used
to
anything
.
Slaughtering
or
undertaking
or
even
execution
;
rack
and
pincers
must
be
just
a
job
when
one
gets
used
to
it
.
When
the
children
had
gone
to
bed
I
said
,
"
I
’
m
going
out
for
a
while
.
"
Mary
didn
’
t
ask
where
or
why
,
as
she
would
have
a
few
days
ago
.
"
Shall
you
be
late
?
"
"
No
,
not
late
.
"
"
I
won
’
t
wait
up
,
I
’
m
sleepy
,
"
she
said
.
And
it
seemed
that
,
having
accepted
a
direction
,
she
was
farther
along
than
I
.
I
still
had
the
rabbit
misery
.
Perhaps
it
is
natural
for
a
man
who
has
destroyed
something
to
try
to
restore
a
balance
by
creating
something
.
But
was
that
my
impulse
?
I
fumbled
my
way
into
the
stinking
kennel
where
Danny
Taylor
lived
.
A
lighted
candle
burned
in
a
saucer
beside
his
Army
cot
.
Danny
was
in
bad
shape
,
blue
and
gaunt
and
sick
.
His
skin
had
a
pewter
sheen
.
It
was
hard
not
to
be
sick
at
the
smell
of
the
dirty
place
and
the
dirty
man
,
under
a
filthy
comforter
.
His
eyes
were
open
and
glazed
.
I
expected
him
to
babble
in
delirium
.
It
was
a
shock
when
he
spoke
clearly
and
in
the
tone
and
manner
of
Danny
Taylor
.
