-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Фрэнсис Скотт Фицджеральд
-
- По эту сторону рая
-
- Стр. 249/348
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Sure
!
"
"
Often
?
"
"
My
chronic
state
.
"
This
provoked
discussion
.
One
man
said
that
he
got
so
depressed
sometimes
that
he
seriously
considered
it
.
Another
agreed
that
there
was
nothing
to
live
for
.
"
Captain
Corn
,
"
who
had
somehow
rejoined
the
party
,
said
that
in
his
opinion
it
was
when
one
's
health
was
bad
that
one
felt
that
way
most
.
Amory
's
suggestion
was
that
they
should
each
order
a
Bronx
,
mix
broken
glass
in
it
,
and
drink
it
off
.
To
his
relief
no
one
applauded
the
idea
,
so
having
finished
his
high-ball
,
he
balanced
his
chin
in
his
hand
and
his
elbow
on
the
table
--
a
most
delicate
,
scarcely
noticeable
sleeping
position
,
he
assured
himself
--
and
went
into
a
deep
stupor
...
He
was
awakened
by
a
woman
clinging
to
him
,
a
pretty
woman
,
with
brown
,
disarranged
hair
and
dark
blue
eyes
.
"
Take
me
home
!
"
she
cried
.
"
Hello
!
"
said
Amory
,
blinking
.
"
I
like
you
,
"
she
announced
tenderly
.
"
I
like
you
too
.
"
He
noticed
that
there
was
a
noisy
man
in
the
background
and
that
one
of
his
party
was
arguing
with
him
.
