-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Кнут Гамсун
-
- Голод
-
- Стр. 23/143
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
I
would
recommend
my
tailor
to
you
for
the
suit
of
clothes
.
You
wo
n't
find
a
better
tailor
than
Isaksen
--
just
say
I
sent
you
,
that
's
all
!
"
This
was
really
rather
more
than
I
could
swallow
.
What
did
he
want
to
poke
his
nose
in
my
affairs
for
?
Was
it
any
concern
of
his
which
tailor
I
employed
?
The
sight
of
this
empty-headed
dandified
"
masher
"
embittered
me
,
and
I
reminded
him
rather
brutally
of
ten
shilling
he
had
borrowed
from
me
.
But
before
he
could
reply
I
regretted
that
I
had
asked
for
it
.
I
got
ashamed
and
avoided
meeting
his
eyes
,
and
,
as
a
lady
came
by
just
then
,
I
stepped
hastily
aside
to
let
her
pass
,
and
seized
the
opportunity
to
proceed
on
my
way
.
What
should
I
do
with
myself
whilst
I
waited
?
I
could
not
visit
a
cafe
with
empty
pockets
,
and
I
knew
of
no
acquaintance
that
I
could
call
on
at
this
time
of
day
.
I
wended
my
way
instinctively
up
town
,
killed
a
good
deal
of
time
between
the
marketplace
and
the
Graendsen
,
read
the
Aftenpost
,
which
was
newly
posted
up
on
the
board
outside
the
office
,
took
a
turn
down
Carl
Johann
,
wheeled
round
and
went
straight
on
to
Our
Saviour
's
Cemetery
,
where
I
found
a
quiet
seat
on
the
slope
near
the
Mortuary
Chapel
.
I
sat
there
in
complete
quietness
,
dozed
in
the
damp
air
,
mused
,
half
-
slept
and
shivered
.
And
time
passed
.
Now
,
was
it
certain
that
the
story
really
was
a
little
masterpiece
of
inspired
art
?
God
knows
if
it
might
not
have
its
faults
here
and
there
.
All
things
well
weighed
,
it
was
not
certain
that
it
would
be
accepted
;
no
,
simply
not
even
accepted
.
It
was
perhaps
mediocre
enough
in
its
way
,
perhaps
downright
worthless
.
What
security
had
I
that
it
was
not
already
at
this
moment
lying
in
the
waste-paper
basket
?
...
My
confidence
was
shaken
.
I
sprang
up
and
stormed
out
of
the
graveyard
.
Down
in
Akersgaden
I
peeped
into
a
shop
window
,
and
saw
that
it
was
only
a
little
past
noon
.
There
was
no
use
in
looking
up
the
editor
before
four
.
The
fate
of
my
story
filled
me
with
gloomy
forebodings
;
the
more
I
thought
about
it
the
more
absurd
it
seemed
to
me
that
I
could
have
written
anything
useable
with
such
suddenness
,
half-asleep
,
with
my
brain
full
of
fever
and
dreams
.
Of
course
I
had
deceived
myself
and
been
happy
all
through
the
long
morning
for
nothing
!
...
Of
course
!
...
I
rushed
with
hurried
strides
up
Ullavold-sveien
,
past
St.
Han
's
Hill
,
until
I
came
to
the
open
fields
;
on
through
the
narrow
quaint
lanes
in
Sagene
,
past
waste
plots
and
small
tilled
fields
,
and
found
myself
at
last
on
a
country
road
,
the
end
of
which
I
could
not
see
.
Here
I
halted
and
decided
to
turn
.
I
was
warm
from
the
walk
,
and
returned
slowly
and
very
downcast
.
I
met
two
hay-carts
.
The
drivers
were
lying
flat
upon
the
top
of
their
loads
,
and
sang
.
Both
were
bare-headed
,
and
both
had
round
,
care-free
faces
.
