-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Маргарет Митчелл
-
- Унесенные ветром
-
- Стр. 226/927
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
You
look
like
the
ragpicker
's
child
,
"
he
observed
,
his
eyes
taking
in
the
mended
lavender
calico
,
streaked
with
perspiration
and
splotched
here
and
there
with
water
which
had
slopped
from
the
basin
.
Scarlett
was
furious
with
embarrassment
and
indignation
.
Why
did
he
always
notice
women
's
clothing
and
why
was
he
so
rude
as
to
remark
upon
her
present
untidiness
?
"
I
do
n't
want
to
hear
a
word
out
of
you
.
You
get
out
and
help
me
in
and
drive
me
somewhere
where
nobody
will
see
me
.
I
wo
n't
go
back
to
the
hospital
if
they
hang
me
!
My
goodness
,
I
did
n't
start
this
war
and
I
do
n't
see
any
reason
why
I
should
be
worked
to
death
and
--
"
"
A
traitor
to
Our
Glorious
Cause
!
"
"
The
pot
's
calling
the
kettle
black
.
You
help
me
in
.
I
do
n't
care
where
you
were
going
.
You
're
going
to
take
me
riding
now
.
"
He
swung
himself
out
of
the
carriage
to
the
ground
and
she
suddenly
thought
how
nice
it
was
to
see
a
man
who
was
whole
,
who
was
not
minus
eyes
or
limbs
,
or
white
with
pain
or
yellow
with
malaria
,
and
who
looked
well
fed
and
healthy
.
He
was
so
well
dressed
too
.
His
coat
and
trousers
were
actually
of
the
same
material
and
they
fitted
him
,
instead
of
hanging
in
folds
or
being
almost
too
tight
for
movement
.
And
they
were
new
,
not
ragged
,
with
dirty
bare
flesh
and
hairy
legs
showing
through
.
He
looked
as
if
he
had
not
a
care
in
the
world
and
that
in
itself
was
startling
these
days
,
when
other
men
wore
such
worried
,
preoccupied
,
grim
looks
.
His
brown
face
was
bland
and
his
mouth
,
red
lipped
,
clear
cut
as
a
woman
's
,
frankly
sensual
,
smiled
carelessly
as
he
lifted
her
into
the
carriage
.
The
muscles
of
his
big
body
rippled
against
his
well-tailored
clothes
,
as
he
got
in
beside
her
,
and
,
as
always
,
the
sense
of
his
great
physical
power
struck
her
like
a
blow
.
She
watched
the
swell
of
his
powerful
shoulders
against
the
cloth
with
a
fascination
that
was
disturbing
,
a
little
frightening
.
His
body
seemed
so
tough
and
hard
,
as
tough
and
hard
as
his
keen
mind
.
His
was
such
an
easy
,
graceful
strength
,
lazy
as
a
panther
stretching
in
the
sun
,
alert
as
a
panther
to
spring
and
strike
.
"
You
little
fraud
,
"
he
said
,
clucking
to
the
horse
.
"
You
dance
all
night
with
the
soldiers
and
give
them
roses
and
ribbons
and
tell
them
how
you
'd
die
for
the
Cause
,
and
when
it
comes
to
bandaging
a
few
wounds
and
picking
off
a
few
lice
,
you
decamp
hastily
.
"
"
Ca
n't
you
talk
about
something
else
and
drive
faster
?
It
would
be
just
my
luck
for
Grandpa
Merriwether
to
come
out
of
his
store
and
see
me
and
tell
old
lady
--
I
mean
,
Mrs.
Merriwether
.
"
He
touched
up
the
mare
with
the
whip
and
she
trotted
briskly
across
Five
Points
and
across
the
railroad
tracks
that
cut
the
town
in
two
.
The
train
bearing
the
wounded
had
already
come
in
and
the
litter
bearers
were
working
swiftly
in
the
hot
sun
,
transferring
wounded
into
ambulances
and
covered
ordnance
wagons
.
Scarlett
had
no
qualm
of
conscience
as
she
watched
them
but
only
a
feeling
of
vast
relief
that
she
had
made
her
escape
.
