-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнк Норрис
-
- Спрут: Калифорнийская история
-
- Стр. 124/416
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
festoons
of
Japanese
lanterns
in
and
around
the
barn
were
not
yet
lighted
,
but
some
half
-
dozen
lamps
,
with
great
,
tin
reflectors
,
that
hung
against
the
walls
,
were
burning
low
.
A
dull
half
light
pervaded
the
vast
interior
,
hollow
,
echoing
,
leaving
the
corners
and
roof
thick
with
impenetrable
black
shadows
.
The
barn
faced
the
west
and
through
the
open
sliding
doors
was
streaming
a
single
bright
bar
from
the
after
-
glow
,
incongruous
and
out
of
all
harmony
with
the
dull
flare
of
the
kerosene
lamps
.
As
Annixter
glanced
about
him
,
he
saw
a
figure
step
briskly
out
of
the
shadows
of
one
corner
of
the
building
,
pause
for
the
fraction
of
one
instant
in
the
bar
of
light
,
then
,
at
sight
of
him
,
dart
back
again
.
There
was
a
sound
of
hurried
footsteps
.
Annixter
,
with
recollections
of
the
stolen
buckskin
in
his
mind
,
cried
out
sharply
:
“
Who
’
s
there
?
”
There
was
no
answer
.
In
a
second
his
pistol
was
in
his
hand
.
“
Who
’
s
there
?
Quick
,
speak
up
or
I
’
ll
shoot
.
”
“
No
,
no
,
no
,
don
’
t
shoot
,
”
cried
an
answering
voice
.
“
Oh
,
be
careful
.
It
’
s
I
—
Hilma
Tree
.
”
Annixter
slid
the
pistol
into
his
pocket
with
a
great
qualm
of
apprehension
.
He
came
forward
and
met
Hilma
in
the
doorway
.
“
Good
Lord
,
”
he
murmured
,
“
that
sure
did
give
me
a
start
.
If
I
HAD
shot
—
—
”
Hilma
stood
abashed
and
confused
before
him
.
She
was
dressed
in
a
white
organdie
frock
of
the
most
rigorous
simplicity
and
wore
neither
flower
nor
ornament
.
The
severity
of
her
dress
made
her
look
even
larger
than
usual
,
and
even
as
it
was
her
eyes
were
on
a
level
with
Annixter
’
s
.
