-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Лев Толстой
-
- Война и мир
-
- Стр. 37/1273
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Do
n't
touch
him
!
You
'll
startle
him
and
then
he
'll
be
killed
.
Eh
?
...
What
then
?
...
Eh
?
"
Dólokhov
turned
round
and
,
again
holding
on
with
both
hands
,
arranged
himself
on
his
seat
.
"
If
anyone
comes
meddling
again
,
"
said
he
,
emitting
the
words
separately
through
his
thin
compressed
lips
,
"
I
will
throw
him
down
there
.
Now
then
!
"
Saying
this
he
again
turned
round
,
dropped
his
hands
,
took
the
bottle
and
lifted
it
to
his
lips
,
threw
back
his
head
,
and
raised
his
free
hand
to
balance
himself
.
One
of
the
footmen
who
had
stooped
to
pick
up
some
broken
glass
remained
in
that
position
without
taking
his
eyes
from
the
window
and
from
Dólokhov
's
back
.
Anatole
stood
erect
with
staring
eyes
.
The
Englishman
looked
on
sideways
,
pursing
up
his
lips
.
The
man
who
had
wished
to
stop
the
affair
ran
to
a
corner
of
the
room
and
threw
himself
on
a
sofa
with
his
face
to
the
wall
.
Pierre
hid
his
face
,
from
which
a
faint
smile
forgot
to
fade
though
his
features
now
expressed
horror
and
fear
.
All
were
still
.
Pierre
took
his
hands
from
his
eyes
.
Dólokhov
still
sat
in
the
same
position
,
only
his
head
was
thrown
further
back
till
his
curly
hair
touched
his
shirt
collar
,
and
the
hand
holding
the
bottle
was
lifted
higher
and
higher
and
trembled
with
the
effort
.
The
bottle
was
emptying
perceptibly
and
rising
still
higher
and
his
head
tilting
yet
further
back
.
"
Why
is
it
so
long
?
"
thought
Pierre
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
more
than
half
an
hour
had
elapsed
.
Suddenly
Dólokhov
made
a
backward
movement
with
his
spine
,
and
his
arm
trembled
nervously
;
this
was
sufficient
to
cause
his
whole
body
to
slip
as
he
sat
on
the
sloping
ledge
.
As
he
began
slipping
down
,
his
head
and
arm
wavered
still
more
with
the
strain
.
One
hand
moved
as
if
to
clutch
the
window
sill
,
but
refrained
from
touching
it
.
Pierre
again
covered
his
eyes
and
thought
he
would
never
open
them
again
.
Suddenly
he
was
aware
of
a
stir
all
around
.
He
looked
up
:
Dólokhov
was
standing
on
the
window
sill
,
with
a
pale
but
radiant
face
.
"
It
's
empty
.
"
He
threw
the
bottle
to
the
Englishman
,
who
caught
it
neatly
.
Dólokhov
jumped
down
.
He
smelt
strongly
of
rum
.
"
Well
done
!
...
Fine
fellow
!
...
There
's
a
bet
for
you
!
...
Devil
take
you
!
"
came
from
different
sides
.
The
Englishman
took
out
his
purse
and
began
counting
out
the
money
.
Dólokhov
stood
frowning
and
did
not
speak
.
Pierre
jumped
upon
the
window
sill
"
Gentlemen
,
who
wishes
to
bet
with
me
?
I
'll
do
the
same
thing
!
"
he
suddenly
cried
.
"
Even
without
a
bet
,
there
!
Tell
them
to
bring
me
a
bottle
.
I
'll
do
it
...
Bring
a
bottle
!
"
