-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
-
- Ночь нежна
-
- Стр. 294/351
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
And
as
Golding
’
s
cyclonic
arms
blew
them
aft
without
touching
them
,
Nicole
was
sorrier
they
had
come
,
and
more
impatient
at
Dick
.
Having
taken
up
an
attitude
of
aloofness
from
the
gay
people
here
,
at
the
time
when
Dick
’
s
work
and
her
health
were
incompatible
with
going
about
,
they
had
a
reputation
as
refusers
.
Riviera
replacements
during
the
ensuing
years
interpreted
this
as
a
vague
unpopularity
.
Nevertheless
,
having
taken
such
a
stand
,
Nicole
felt
it
should
not
be
cheaply
compromised
for
a
momentary
self
-
indulgence
.
As
they
passed
through
the
principal
salon
they
saw
ahead
of
them
figures
that
seemed
to
dance
in
the
half
light
of
the
circular
stern
.
This
was
an
illusion
made
by
the
enchantment
of
the
music
,
the
unfamiliar
lighting
,
and
the
surrounding
presence
of
water
.
Actually
,
save
for
some
busy
stewards
,
the
guests
loafed
on
a
wide
divan
that
followed
the
curve
of
the
deck
.
There
were
a
white
,
a
red
,
a
blurred
dress
,
the
laundered
chests
of
several
men
,
of
whom
one
,
detaching
and
identifying
himself
,
brought
from
Nicole
a
rare
little
cry
of
delight
.
"
Tommy
!
"
Brushing
aside
the
Gallicism
of
his
formal
dip
at
her
hand
,
Nicole
pressed
her
face
against
his
.
They
sat
,
or
rather
lay
down
together
on
the
Antoninian
bench
.
His
handsome
face
was
so
dark
as
to
have
lost
the
pleasantness
of
deep
tan
,
without
attaining
the
blue
beauty
of
Negroes
—
it
was
just
worn
leather
.
The
foreignness
of
his
depigmentation
by
unknown
suns
,
his
nourishment
by
strange
soils
,
his
tongue
awkward
with
the
curl
of
many
dialects
,
his
reactions
attuned
to
odd
alarms
—
these
things
fascinated
and
rested
Nicole
—
in
the
moment
of
meeting
she
lay
on
his
bosom
,
spiritually
,
going
out
and
out
.
.
.
.
Then
self
-
preservation
reasserted
itself
and
retiring
to
her
own
world
she
spoke
lightly
.
"
You
look
just
like
all
the
adventurers
in
the
movies
—
but
why
do
you
have
to
stay
away
so
long
?
"
Tommy
Barban
looked
at
her
,
uncomprehending
but
alert
;
the
pupils
of
his
eyes
flashed
.
"
Five
years
,
"
she
continued
,
in
throaty
mimicry
of
nothing
.
"
MUCH
too
long
.
Couldn
’
t
you
only
slaughter
a
certain
number
of
creatures
and
then
come
back
,
and
breathe
our
air
for
a
while
?
"
In
her
cherished
presence
Tommy
Europeanized
himself
quickly
.
"
Mais
pour
nous
héros
,
"
he
said
,
"
il
nous
faut
du
temps
,
Nicole
.
Nous
ne
pouvons
pas
faire
de
petits
exercises
d
’
héroisme
—
il
faut
faire
les
grandes
compositions
.
"
