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- Фрэнк Герберт
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- Стр. 817/972
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“
But
Paul
Muad
’
Dib
has
held
himself
aloof
from
these
ceremonies
,
”
Chani
said
.
Jessica
nodded
to
herself
,
remembering
her
son
’
s
ambivalent
feelings
toward
the
spice
drug
and
the
prescient
awareness
it
precipitated
.
“
How
did
you
know
this
?
”
Jessica
asked
.
“
It
is
spoken
.
”
“
Too
much
is
spoken
,
”
Jessica
said
bitterly
.
“
Get
me
the
raw
Water
of
the
maker
,
”
Chani
said
.
Jessica
stiffened
at
the
tone
of
command
in
Chani
’
s
voice
,
then
observed
the
intense
concentration
in
the
younger
woman
and
said
:
“
At
once
.
”
She
went
out
through
the
hangings
to
send
a
waterman
.
Chani
sat
staring
at
Paul
.
If
he
has
tried
to
do
this
,
she
thought
.
And
it
’
s
the
sort
of
thing
he
might
try
.
.
.
.
Jessica
knelt
beside
Chani
,
holding
out
a
plain
camp
ewer
.
The
charged
odor
of
the
poison
was
sharp
in
Chani
’
s
nostrils
.
She
dipped
a
finger
in
the
fluid
,
held
the
finger
close
to
Paul
’
s
nose
.
The
skin
along
the
bridge
of
his
nose
wrinkled
slightly
.
Slowly
,
the
nostrils
flared
.
