-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Маргарет Митчелл
-
- Унесенные ветром
-
- Стр. 326/927
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
avenue
seemed
miles
long
and
the
horse
,
pulling
stubbornly
at
her
hand
,
plopped
slower
and
slower
.
Eagerly
her
eyes
searched
the
darkness
.
The
roof
seemed
to
be
intact
.
Could
it
be
--
could
it
be
--
?
No
,
it
was
n't
possible
.
War
stopped
for
nothing
,
not
even
Tara
,
built
to
last
five
hundred
years
.
It
could
not
have
passed
over
Tara
.
Then
the
shadowy
outline
did
take
form
.
She
pulled
the
horse
forward
faster
.
The
white
walls
did
show
there
through
the
darkness
.
And
untarnished
by
smoke
.
Tara
had
escaped
!
Home
!
She
dropped
the
bridle
and
ran
the
last
few
steps
,
leaped
forward
with
an
urge
to
clutch
the
walls
themselves
in
her
arms
.
Then
she
saw
a
form
,
shadowy
in
the
dimness
,
emerging
from
the
blackness
of
the
front
veranda
and
standing
at
the
top
of
the
steps
.
Tara
was
not
deserted
.
Someone
was
home
!
A
cry
of
joy
rose
to
her
throat
and
died
there
.
The
house
was
so
dark
and
still
and
the
figure
did
not
move
or
call
to
her
.
What
was
wrong
?
What
was
wrong
?
Tara
stood
intact
,
yet
shrouded
with
the
same
eerie
quiet
that
hung
over
the
whole
stricken
countryside
.
Then
the
figure
moved
.
Stiffly
and
slowly
,
it
came
down
the
steps
.
"
Pa
?
"
she
whispered
huskily
,
doubting
almost
that
it
was
he
.
"
It
's
me
--
Katie
Scarlett
.
I
've
come
home
.
"
Gerald
moved
toward
her
,
silent
as
a
sleepwalker
,
his
stiff
leg
dragging
.
He
came
close
to
her
,
looking
at
her
in
a
dazed
way
as
if
he
believed
she
was
part
of
a
dream
.
Putting
out
his
hand
,
he
laid
it
on
her
shoulder
.
Scarlett
felt
it
tremble
,
tremble
as
if
he
had
been
awakened
from
a
nightmare
into
a
half-sense
of
reality
.
"
Daughter
,
"
he
said
with
an
effort
.
"
Daughter
.
"
Then
he
was
silent
.
Why
--
he
's
an
old
man
!
thought
Scarlett
.
Gerald
's
shoulders
sagged
.
In
the
face
which
she
could
only
see
dimly
,
there
was
none
of
the
virility
,
the
restless
vitality
of
Gerald
,
and
the
eyes
that
looked
into
hers
had
almost
the
same
fear-stunned
look
that
lay
in
little
Wade
's
eyes
.
He
was
only
a
little
old
man
and
broken
.
