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- Герберт Уеллс
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- Война миров
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- Стр. 83/99
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As
I
drew
nearer
I
perceived
he
was
dressed
in
clothes
as
dusty
and
filthy
as
my
own
;
he
looked
,
indeed
,
as
though
he
had
been
dragged
through
a
culvert
.
Nearer
,
I
distinguished
the
green
slime
of
ditches
mixing
with
the
pale
drab
of
dried
clay
and
shiny
,
coaly
patches
.
His
black
hair
fell
over
his
eyes
,
and
his
face
was
dark
and
dirty
and
sunken
,
so
that
at
first
I
did
not
recognise
him
.
There
was
a
red
cut
across
the
lower
part
of
his
face
.
"
Stop
!
"
he
cried
,
when
I
was
within
ten
yards
of
him
,
and
I
stopped
.
His
voice
was
hoarse
.
"
Where
do
you
come
from
?
"
he
said
.
I
thought
,
surveying
him
.
"
I
come
from
Mortlake
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
was
buried
near
the
pit
the
Martians
made
about
their
cylinder
.
I
have
worked
my
way
out
and
escaped
.
"
"
There
is
no
food
about
here
,
"
he
said
.
"
This
is
my
country
.
All
this
hill
down
to
the
river
,
and
back
to
Clapham
,
and
up
to
the
edge
of
the
common
.
There
is
only
food
for
one
.
Which
way
are
you
going
?
"
I
answered
slowly
.
"
I
do
n't
know
,
"
I
said
.
"
I
have
been
buried
in
the
ruins
of
a
house
thirteen
or
fourteen
days
.
I
do
n't
know
what
has
happened
.
"
He
looked
at
me
doubtfully
,
then
started
,
and
looked
with
a
changed
expression
.
"
I
've
no
wish
to
stop
about
here
,
"
said
I.
"
I
think
I
shall
go
to
Leatherhead
,
for
my
wife
was
there
.
"
He
shot
out
a
pointing
finger
.
