-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Маргарет Митчелл
-
- Унесенные ветром
-
- Стр. 265/927
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Not
a
word
from
Tara
in
a
week
.
Scarlett
had
seen
enough
typhoid
in
the
Atlanta
hospital
to
know
what
a
week
meant
in
that
dread
disease
.
Ellen
was
ill
,
perhaps
dying
,
and
here
was
Scarlett
helpless
in
Atlanta
with
a
pregnant
woman
on
her
hands
and
two
armies
between
her
and
home
.
Ellen
was
ill
--
perhaps
dying
.
But
Ellen
could
n't
be
ill
!
She
had
never
been
ill
.
The
very
thought
was
incredible
and
it
struck
at
the
very
foundations
of
the
security
of
Scarlett
's
life
.
Everyone
else
got
sick
,
but
never
Ellen
.
Ellen
looked
after
sick
people
and
made
them
well
again
.
She
could
n't
be
sick
.
Scarlett
wanted
to
be
home
.
She
wanted
Tara
with
the
desperate
desire
of
a
frightened
child
frantic
for
the
only
haven
it
had
ever
known
.
Home
!
The
sprawling
white
house
with
fluttering
white
curtains
at
the
windows
,
the
thick
clover
on
the
lawn
with
the
bees
busy
in
it
,
the
little
black
boy
on
the
front
steps
shooing
the
ducks
and
turkeys
from
the
flower
beds
,
the
serene
red
fields
and
the
miles
and
miles
of
cotton
turning
white
in
the
sun
!
Home
!
If
she
had
only
gone
home
at
the
beginning
of
the
siege
,
when
everyone
else
was
refugeeing
!
She
could
have
taken
Melanie
with
her
in
safety
with
weeks
to
spare
.
"
Oh
,
damn
Melanie
!
"
she
thought
a
thousand
times
.
"
Why
could
n't
she
have
gone
to
Macon
with
Aunt
Pitty
?
That
's
where
she
belongs
,
with
her
own
kinfolks
,
not
with
me
.
I
'm
none
of
her
blood
.
Why
does
she
hang
onto
me
so
hard
?
If
she
'd
only
gone
to
Macon
,
then
I
could
have
gone
home
to
Mother
.
Even
now
--
even
now
,
I
'd
take
a
chance
on
getting
home
in
spite
of
the
Yankees
,
if
it
was
n't
for
this
baby
.
Maybe
General
Hood
would
give
me
an
escort
.
He
's
a
nice
man
,
General
Hood
,
and
I
know
I
could
make
him
give
me
an
escort
and
a
flag
of
truce
to
get
me
through
the
lines
.
But
I
have
to
wait
for
this
baby
!
...
Oh
,
Mother
!
Mother
!
Do
n't
die
!
...
Why
do
n't
this
baby
ever
come
?
I
'll
see
Dr.
Meade
today
and
ask
him
if
there
's
any
way
to
hurry
babies
up
so
I
can
go
home
--
if
I
can
get
an
escort
.
Dr.
Meade
said
she
'd
have
a
bad
time
.
Dear
God
!
Suppose
she
should
die
!
Melanie
dead
.
Melanie
dead
.
And
Ashley
--
No
,
I
must
n't
think
about
that
,
it
is
n't
nice
.
But
Ashley
--
No
,
I
must
n't
think
about
that
because
he
's
probably
dead
,
anyway
.
But
he
made
me
promise
I
'd
take
care
of
her
.
But
--
if
I
did
n't
take
care
of
her
and
she
died
and
Ashley
is
still
alive
--
No
,
I
must
n't
think
about
that
.
It
's
sinful
.
And
I
promised
God
I
'd
be
good
if
He
would
just
not
let
Mother
die
.
Oh
,
if
the
baby
would
only
come
.
If
I
could
only
get
away
from
here
--
get
home
--
get
anywhere
but
here
.
"
Scarlett
hated
the
sight
of
the
ominously
still
town
now
and
once
she
had
loved
it
.
Atlanta
was
no
longer
the
gay
,
the
desperately
gay
place
she
had
loved
.
It
was
a
hideous
place
like
a
plague-stricken
city
so
quiet
,
so
dreadfully
quiet
after
the
din
of
the
siege
.
There
had
been
stimulation
in
the
noise
and
the
danger
of
the
shelling
.
There
was
only
horror
in
the
quiet
that
followed
.
The
town
seemed
haunted
,
haunted
with
fear
and
uncertainty
and
memories
.
People
's
faces
looked
pinched
and
the
few
soldiers
Scarlett
saw
wore
the
exhausted
look
of
racers
forcing
themselves
on
through
the
last
lap
of
a
race
already
lost
.
The
last
day
of
August
came
and
with
it
convincing
rumors
that
the
fiercest
fighting
since
the
battle
of
Atlanta
was
taking
place
.
Somewhere
to
the
south
.
Atlanta
,
waiting
for
news
of
the
turn
of
battle
,
stopped
even
trying
to
laugh
and
joke
.
Everyone
knew
now
what
the
soldiers
had
known
two
weeks
before
--
that
Atlanta
was
in
the
last
ditch
,
that
if
the
Macon
railroad
fell
,
Atlanta
would
fall
too
.
On
the
morning
of
the
first
of
September
,
Scarlett
awoke
with
a
suffocating
sense
of
dread
upon
her
,
a
dread
she
had
taken
to
her
pillow
the
night
before
.
She
thought
,
dulled
with
sleep
:
"
What
was
it
I
was
worrying
about
when
I
went
to
bed
last
night
?
Oh
,
yes
,
the
fighting
.
There
was
a
battle
,
somewhere
,
yesterday
!
Oh
,
who
won
?
"
She
sat
up
hastily
,
rubbing
her
eyes
,
and
her
worried
heart
took
up
yesterday
's
load
again
.