-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Нил Гейман
-
- Американские боги
-
- Стр. 12/641
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
There
was
a
voice
in
the
back
of
his
head
whispering
that
they
were
going
to
slap
another
year
onto
his
sentence
,
drop
him
into
solitary
,
cut
off
his
hands
,
cut
off
his
head
.
He
told
himself
he
was
being
stupid
,
but
his
heart
was
pounding
fit
to
burst
out
of
his
chest
.
"
I
don
’
t
get
you
,
Shadow
,
"
said
Wilson
,
as
they
walked
.
"
What
’
s
not
to
get
,
sir
?
"
"
You
.
You
’
re
too
f
*
*
king
quiet
.
Too
polite
.
You
wait
like
the
old
guys
,
but
you
’
re
what
?
Twenty
-
five
?
Twenty
-
eight
?
"
"
Thirty
-
two
,
sir
.
"
"
And
what
are
you
?
A
spic
?
A
gypsy
?
"
"
Not
that
I
know
of
,
sir
.
Maybe
.
"
"
Maybe
you
got
nigger
blood
in
you
.
You
got
nigger
blood
in
you
,
Shadow
?
"
"
Could
be
,
sir
.
"
Shadow
stood
tall
and
looked
straight
ahead
,
and
concentrated
on
not
allowing
himself
to
be
riled
by
this
man
.