-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнсис Бёрнетт
-
- Маленькая принцесса
-
- Стр. 62/182
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Not
go
in
?
"
exclaimed
Sara
,
and
she
fell
back
a
pace
.
"
That
is
not
your
room
now
,
"
Miss
Amelia
answered
,
reddening
a
little
.
Somehow
,
all
at
once
,
Sara
understood
.
She
realized
that
this
was
the
beginning
of
the
change
Miss
Minchin
had
spoken
of
.
"
Where
is
my
room
?
"
she
asked
,
hoping
very
much
that
her
voice
did
not
shake
.
"
You
are
to
sleep
in
the
attic
next
to
Becky
.
"
Sara
knew
where
it
was
.
Becky
had
told
her
about
it
.
She
turned
,
and
mounted
up
two
flights
of
stairs
.
The
last
one
was
narrow
,
and
covered
with
shabby
strips
of
old
carpet
.
She
felt
as
if
she
were
walking
away
and
leaving
far
behind
her
the
world
in
which
that
other
child
,
who
no
longer
seemed
herself
,
had
lived
.
This
child
,
in
her
short
,
tight
old
frock
,
climbing
the
stairs
to
the
attic
,
was
quite
a
different
creature
.
When
she
reached
the
attic
door
and
opened
it
,
her
heart
gave
a
dreary
little
thump
.
Then
she
shut
the
door
and
stood
against
it
and
looked
about
her
.
Yes
,
this
was
another
world
.
The
room
had
a
slanting
roof
and
was
whitewashed
.
The
whitewash
was
dingy
and
had
fallen
off
in
places
.
There
was
a
rusty
grate
,
an
old
iron
bedstead
,
and
a
hard
bed
covered
with
a
faded
coverlet
.
Some
pieces
of
furniture
too
much
worn
to
be
used
downstairs
had
been
sent
up
.
Under
the
skylight
in
the
roof
,
which
showed
nothing
but
an
oblong
piece
of
dull
gray
sky
,
there
stood
an
old
battered
red
footstool
.
Sara
went
to
it
and
sat
down
.
She
seldom
cried
.
She
did
not
cry
now
.
She
laid
Emily
across
her
knees
and
put
her
face
down
upon
her
and
her
arms
around
her
,
and
sat
there
,
her
little
black
head
resting
on
the
black
draperies
,
not
saying
one
word
,
not
making
one
sound
.
And
as
she
sat
in
this
silence
there
came
a
low
tap
at
the
door
--
such
a
low
,
humble
one
that
she
did
not
at
first
hear
it
,
and
,
indeed
,
was
not
roused
until
the
door
was
timidly
pushed
open
and
a
poor
tear-smeared
face
appeared
peeping
round
it
.
It
was
Becky
's
face
,
and
Becky
had
been
crying
furtively
for
hours
and
rubbing
her
eyes
with
her
kitchen
apron
until
she
looked
strange
indeed
.
"
Oh
,
miss
,
"
she
said
under
her
breath
.
"
Might
I
--
would
you
allow
me
--
jest
to
come
in
?
"
