-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Колин Маккалоу
-
- Поющие в терновнике
-
- Стр. 109/535
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
*
*
*
Meggie
was
ignorant
even
of
the
meaning
of
a
phrase
as
hackneyed
as
"
the
facts
of
life
,
"
for
circumstances
had
conspired
to
block
every
avenue
whereby
she
might
have
learned
.
Her
father
drew
a
rigid
line
between
the
males
of
the
family
and
the
females
;
subjects
like
breeding
or
mating
were
never
discussed
in
front
of
the
women
,
nor
did
the
men
ever
appear
in
front
of
the
women
unless
fully
clothed
.
The
kind
of
books
that
might
have
given
her
a
clue
never
appeared
on
Drogheda
,
and
she
had
no
friends
of
her
own
age
to
contribute
to
her
education
.
Her
life
was
absolutely
harnessed
to
the
needs
of
the
house
,
and
around
the
house
there
were
no
sexual
activities
at
all
.
The
Home
Paddock
creatures
were
almost
literally
sterile
.
Mary
Carson
did
n't
breed
horses
,
she
bought
them
from
Martin
King
of
Bugela
,
who
did
;
unless
one
bred
horses
stallions
were
a
nuisance
,
so
Drogheda
did
n't
have
any
stallions
.
It
did
have
a
bull
,
a
wild
and
savage
beast
whose
pen
was
strictly
out
of
bounds
,
and
Meggie
was
so
frightened
of
it
she
never
went
anywhere
near
it
.
The
dogs
were
kept
kenneled
and
chained
,
their
mating
a
scientific
,
supervised
exercise
conducted
under
Paddy
's
or
Bob
's
eagle
eye
,
therefore
also
out
of
bounds
.
Nor
was
there
time
to
watch
the
pigs
,
which
Meggie
hated
and
resented
having
to
feed
.
In
truth
,
there
was
n't
time
for
Meggie
to
watch
anyone
beyond
her
two
tiny
brothers
.
And
ignorance
breeds
ignorance
;
an
unawakened
body
and
mind
sleep
through
events
which
awareness
catalogues
automatically
.
Just
before
Meggie
's
fifteenth
birthday
,
as
the
summer
heat
was
building
up
toward
its
stupefying
peak
,
she
noticed
brown
,
streaky
stains
on
her
drawers
.
After
a
day
or
two
they
went
away
,
but
six
weeks
later
they
came
back
,
and
her
shame
turned
to
terror
.
The
first
time
she
had
thought
them
signs
of
a
dirty
bottom
,
thus
her
mortification
,
but
in
their
second
appearance
they
became
unmistakably
blood
.
She
had
no
idea
where
the
blood
was
coming
from
,
but
assumed
it
was
her
bottom
.
The
slow
hemorrhage
was
gone
three
days
later
,
and
did
not
recur
for
over
two
months
;
her
furtive
washing
of
the
drawers
had
gone
unnoticed
,
for
she
did
most
of
the
laundry
anyway
.
The
next
attack
brought
pain
,
the
first
non-bilious
rigors
of
her
life
.
And
the
bleeding
was
worse
,
far
worse
.
She
stole
some
of
the
twins
'
discarded
diapers
and
tried
to
bind
herself
under
her
drawers
,
terrified
the
blood
would
come
through
.
Death
taking
Hal
had
been
like
a
tempestuous
visit
from
something
ghostly
;
but
this
strung-out
cessation
of
her
own
being
was
terrifying
.
How
could
she
possibly
go
to
Fee
or
Paddy
to
break
the
news
that
she
was
dying
from
some
disreputable
,
forbidden
disease
of
the
bottom
?
Only
to
Frank
might
she
have
poured
out
her
torment
,
but
Frank
was
so
far
away
she
did
n't
know
where
to
find
him
.
She
had
listened
to
the
women
talk
over
their
cups
of
tea
of
tumors
and
cancers
,
gruesome
lingering
deaths
their
friends
or
mothers
or
sisters
had
endured
,
and
it
seemed
to
Meggie
sure
to
be
some
kind
of
growth
eating
her
insides
away
,
chewing
silently
up
toward
her
frightened
heart
.
Oh
,
she
did
n't
want
to
die
!
Her
ideas
about
the
condition
of
death
were
vague
;
she
was
n't
even
clear
on
what
her
status
would
be
in
that
incomprehensible
other
world
.
Religion
to
Meggie
was
a
set
of
laws
rather
than
a
spiritual
experience
,
it
could
n't
help
her
at
all
.
Words
and
phrases
jostled
piecemeal
in
her
panicked
consciousness
,
uttered
by
her
parents
,
their
friends
,
the
nuns
,
priests
in
sermons
,
bad
men
in
books
threatening
vengeance
.
There
was
no
way
she
could
come
to
terms
with
death
;
she
lay
night
after
night
in
a
confused
terror
,
trying
to
imagine
if
death
was
perpetual
night
,
or
an
abyss
of
flames
she
had
to
jump
over
to
reach
the
golden
fields
on
the
far
side
,
or
a
sphere
like
the
inside
of
a
gigantic
balloon
full
of
soaring
choirs
and
light
attenuated
through
limitless
stained-glass
windows
.
She
grew
very
quiet
,
but
in
a
manner
quite
different
from
Stuart
's
peaceful
,
dreamy
isolation
;
hers
was
the
petrified
freezing
of
an
animal
caught
in
the
serpent
's
basilisk
stare
.
If
she
was
spoken
to
suddenly
she
jumped
,
if
the
little
ones
cried
for
her
she
fussed
over
them
in
an
agony
of
expiation
for
her
neglect
.
And
whenever
she
had
a
rare
moment
to
herself
she
ran
away
,
down
to
the
cemetery
and
Hal
,
who
was
the
only
dead
person
she
knew
.
Everyone
noticed
the
change
in
her
,
but
accepted
it
as
Meggie
growing
up
without
once
asking
themselves
what
growing
up
for
Meggie
entailed
;
she
hid
her
distress
too
well
.
The
old
lessons
had
been
well
learned
;
her
self-control
was
phenomenal
and
her
pride
formidable
.
No
one
must
ever
know
what
went
on
inside
her
,
the
façade
must
continue
flawless
to
the
end
;
from
Fee
to
Frank
to
Stuart
the
examples
were
there
,
and
she
was
of
the
same
blood
,
it
was
a
part
of
her
nature
and
her
heritage
.