-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джон Уиндем
-
- День триффидов
-
- Стр. 10/223
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
There
was
the
feeling
that
I
ought
to
do
something
about
it
.
Lead
them
out
into
the
street
,
perhaps
,
and
at
least
put
an
end
to
that
dreadful
slow
milling
.
But
a
glance
had
been
enough
to
show
that
I
could
not
hope
to
make
my
way
to
the
door
to
guide
them
there
.
Besides
,
if
I
were
to
,
if
I
did
get
them
outside
—
what
then
?
I
sat
down
on
a
step
for
a
while
to
get
over
it
,
with
my
head
in
my
hands
and
that
awful
conglomerate
sound
in
my
ears
all
the
time
.
Then
I
searched
for
,
and
found
,
another
staircase
.
It
was
a
narrow
service
flight
which
led
me
out
by
a
back
way
into
the
yard
.
Maybe
I
’
m
not
telling
this
part
too
well
.
The
whole
thing
was
so
unexpected
and
shocking
that
for
a
time
I
deliberately
tried
not
to
remember
the
details
.
Just
then
I
was
feeling
much
as
though
it
were
a
nightmare
from
which
I
was
desperately
but
vainly
seeking
the
relief
of
waking
myself
.
As
I
stepped
out
into
the
yard
I
still
half
refused
to
believe
what
I
had
seen
.
But
one
thing
I
was
perfectly
certain
about
.
Reality
or
nightmare
,
I
needed
a
drink
as
I
had
seldom
needed
one
before
.
There
was
nobody
in
sight
in
the
little
side
street
outside
the
yard
gates
,
but
almost
opposite
stood
a
pub
.
I
can
recall
its
name
now
—
the
Alamein
Arms
.
There
was
a
board
bearing
a
reputed
likeness
of
Viscount
Montgomery
hanging
from
an
iron
bracket
,
and
below
it
one
of
the
doors
stood
open
.
I
made
straight
for
it
.
Stepping
into
the
public
bar
gave
me
for
the
moment
a
comforting
sense
of
normality
.
It
was
prosaically
and
familiarly
like
dozens
of
others
.
But
although
there
was
no
one
in
that
part
,
there
was
certainly
something
going
on
in
the
saloon
bar
,
round
the
corner
.
I
heard
heavy
breathing
.
A
cork
left
its
bottle
with
a
pop
.
A
pause
.
