-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Герберт Уеллс
-
- Война миров
-
- Стр. 56/99
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
So
have
I
,
"
said
my
brother
.
She
explained
that
they
had
as
much
as
thirty
pounds
in
gold
,
besides
a
five-pound
note
,
and
suggested
that
with
that
they
might
get
upon
a
train
at
St.
Albans
or
New
Barnet
.
My
brother
thought
that
was
hopeless
,
seeing
the
fury
of
the
Londoners
to
crowd
upon
the
trains
,
and
broached
his
own
idea
of
striking
across
Essex
towards
Harwich
and
thence
escaping
from
the
country
altogether
.
Mrs.
Elphinstone
--
that
was
the
name
of
the
woman
in
white
--
would
listen
to
no
reasoning
,
and
kept
calling
upon
"
George
"
;
but
her
sister-in-law
was
astonishingly
quiet
and
deliberate
,
and
at
last
agreed
to
my
brother
's
suggestion
.
So
,
designing
to
cross
the
Great
North
Road
,
they
went
on
towards
Barnet
,
my
brother
leading
the
pony
to
save
it
as
much
as
possible
.
As
the
sun
crept
up
the
sky
the
day
became
excessively
hot
,
and
under
foot
a
thick
,
whitish
sand
grew
burning
and
blinding
,
so
that
they
travelled
only
very
slowly
.
The
hedges
were
grey
with
dust
.
And
as
they
advanced
towards
Barnet
a
tumultuous
murmuring
grew
stronger
.
They
began
to
meet
more
people
.
For
the
most
part
these
were
staring
before
them
,
murmuring
indistinct
questions
,
jaded
,
haggard
,
unclean
.
One
man
in
evening
dress
passed
them
on
foot
,
his
eyes
on
the
ground
.
They
heard
his
voice
,
and
,
looking
back
at
him
,
saw
one
hand
clutched
in
his
hair
and
the
other
beating
invisible
things
.
His
paroxysm
of
rage
over
,
he
went
on
his
way
without
once
looking
back
.
As
my
brother
's
party
went
on
towards
the
crossroads
to
the
south
of
Barnet
they
saw
a
woman
approaching
the
road
across
some
fields
on
their
left
,
carrying
a
child
and
with
two
other
children
;
and
then
passed
a
man
in
dirty
black
,
with
a
thick
stick
in
one
hand
and
a
small
portmanteau
in
the
other
.
Then
round
the
corner
of
the
lane
,
from
between
the
villas
that
guarded
it
at
its
confluence
with
the
high
road
,
came
a
little
cart
drawn
by
a
sweating
black
pony
and
driven
by
a
sallow
youth
in
a
bowler
hat
,
grey
with
dust
.
There
were
three
girls
,
East
End
factory
girls
,
and
a
couple
of
little
children
crowded
in
the
cart
.
"
This
'll
tike
us
rahnd
Edgware
?
"
asked
the
driver
,
wild-eyed
,
white-faced
;
and
when
my
brother
told
him
it
would
if
he
turned
to
the
left
,
he
whipped
up
at
once
without
the
formality
of
thanks
.
My
brother
noticed
a
pale
grey
smoke
or
haze
rising
among
the
houses
in
front
of
them
,
and
veiling
the
white
facade
of
a
terrace
beyond
the
road
that
appeared
between
the
backs
of
the
villas
.
Mrs.
Elphinstone
suddenly
cried
out
at
a
number
of
tongues
of
smoky
red
flame
leaping
up
above
the
houses
in
front
of
them
against
the
hot
,
blue
sky
.
The
tumultuous
noise
resolved
itself
now
into
the
disorderly
mingling
of
many
voices
,
the
gride
of
many
wheels
,
the
creaking
of
waggons
,
and
the
staccato
of
hoofs
.
The
lane
came
round
sharply
not
fifty
yards
from
the
crossroads
.
"
Good
heavens
!
"
cried
Mrs.
Elphinstone
.
"
What
is
this
you
are
driving
us
into
?
"
My
brother
stopped
.
