-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Эрнест Хэмингуэй
-
- По ком звонит колокол
-
- Стр. 507/617
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
They
started
down
the
shallow
trench
behind
the
crest
of
the
hill
and
in
the
dark
Andrés
smelt
the
foulness
the
defenders
of
the
hill
crest
had
made
all
through
the
bracken
on
that
slope
.
He
did
not
like
these
people
who
were
like
dangerous
children
;
dirty
,
foul
,
undisciplined
,
kind
,
loving
,
silly
and
ignorant
but
always
dangerous
because
they
were
armed
.
He
,
Andrés
,
was
without
politics
except
that
he
was
for
the
Republic
.
He
had
heard
these
people
talk
many
times
and
he
thought
what
they
said
was
often
beautiful
and
fine
to
hear
but
he
did
not
like
them
.
It
is
not
liberty
not
to
bury
the
mess
one
makes
,
he
thought
.
No
animal
has
more
liberty
than
the
cat
;
but
it
buries
the
mess
it
makes
.
The
cat
is
the
best
anarchist
.
Until
they
learn
that
from
the
cat
I
cannot
respect
them
.
Ahead
of
him
the
officer
stopped
suddenly
.
"
You
have
your
carabine
still
,
"
he
said
.
"
Yes
,
"
Andrés
said
.
"
Why
not
?
"
"
Give
it
to
me
,
"
the
officer
said
.
"
You
could
shoot
me
in
the
back
with
it
.
"
"
Why
?
"
Andrés
asked
him
"
Why
would
I
shoot
thee
in
the
back
?
"
"
One
never
knows
,
"
the
officer
said
.
"
I
trust
no
one
.
Give
me
the
carbine
.
"
Andrés
unslung
it
and
handed
it
to
him
.
"
If
it
pleases
thee
to
carry
it
,
"
he
said
.
