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- Джон Уиндем
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- День триффидов
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- Стр. 53/223
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"
There
’
s
one
in
the
ball
,
"
she
said
.
She
spoke
in
a
frightened
half
whisper
,
as
though
it
might
be
listening
.
We
went
back
to
the
outer
door
,
and
into
the
garden
once
more
.
Keeping
to
the
grass
for
silence
,
we
made
our
way
round
the
house
until
we
could
look
into
the
lounge
hail
.
The
French
window
which
led
from
the
garden
was
open
,
and
the
glass
of
one
side
was
shattered
.
A
trail
of
muddy
blobs
led
over
the
step
and
across
the
carpet
.
At
the
end
of
it
a
triffid
stood
in
the
middle
of
the
room
.
The
top
of
its
stem
almost
bushed
the
ceiling
,
and
it
was
swaying
ever
so
slightly
.
Close
beside
its
damp
,
shaggy
bole
lay
the
body
of
an
elderly
man
clad
in
a
bright
silk
dressing
gown
.
I
took
hold
of
Josella
’
s
arm
,
afraid
she
might
rush
in
there
.
"
Is
it
—
your
father
?
"
I
asked
,
though
I
knew
it
must
be
.
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
,
and
put
her
hands
over
her
face
.
She
was
trembling
a
little
.
I
stood
still
,
keeping
an
eye
on
the
triffid
inside
lest
it
should
move
our
way
.
Then
I
thought
of
a
handkerchief
and
handed
her
mine
.
There
wasn
’
t
much
anyone
could
do
.
After
a
little
while
she
took
more
control
of
herself
.
Remembering
the
people
we
had
seen
that
day
,
I
said
:
"
You
know
,
I
think
I
would
rather
that
had
happened
to
me
than
to
be
like
those
others
.
"
"
Yes
,
"
she
said
,
after
a
pause
.
She
looked
up
into
the
sky
.
It
was
a
soft
,
depthless
blue
,
with
a
few
little
clouds
floating
like
white
feathers
.
"
Oh
yes
,
"
she
repeated
with
more
conviction
.
"
Poor
Daddy
.
He
couldn
’
t
have
stood
blindness
.
He
loved
all
this
too
much
.
"
She
glanced
inside
the
room
again
.
"
What
shall
we
do
?
I
can
’
t
leave
—
"
At
that
moment
I
caught
the
reflection
of
movement
in
the
remaining
windowpane
.
