-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Оскар Уайльд
-
- Портрет Дориана Грея
-
- Стр. 13/164
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
Stop
!
"
faltered
Dorian
Gray
,
"
stop
!
you
bewilder
me
.
I
do
n't
know
what
to
say
.
There
is
some
answer
to
you
,
but
I
can
not
find
it
.
Do
n't
speak
.
Let
me
think
.
Or
,
rather
,
let
me
try
not
to
think
.
"
For
nearly
ten
minutes
he
stood
there
,
motionless
,
with
parted
lips
,
and
eyes
strangely
bright
.
He
was
dimly
conscious
that
entirely
fresh
influences
were
at
work
within
him
.
Yet
they
seemed
to
him
to
have
come
really
from
himself
.
The
few
words
that
Basil
's
friend
had
said
to
him
--
words
spoken
by
chance
,
no
doubt
,
and
with
wilful
paradox
in
them
--
had
touched
some
secret
chord
that
had
never
been
touched
before
,
but
that
he
felt
was
now
vibrating
and
throbbing
to
curious
pulses
.
Music
had
stirred
him
like
that
.
Music
had
troubled
him
many
times
.
But
music
was
not
articulate
.
It
was
not
a
new
world
,
but
rather
another
chaos
,
that
it
created
in
us
.
Words
!
Mere
words
!
How
terrible
they
were
!
How
clear
,
and
vivid
,
and
cruel
!
One
could
not
escape
from
them
.
And
yet
what
a
subtle
magic
there
was
in
them
!
They
seemed
to
be
able
to
give
a
plastic
form
to
formless
things
,
and
to
have
a
music
of
their
own
as
sweet
as
that
of
viol
or
of
lute
.
Mere
words
!
Was
there
anything
so
real
as
words
?
Yes
;
there
had
been
things
in
his
boyhood
that
he
had
not
understood
.
He
understood
them
now
.
Life
suddenly
became
fiery-coloured
to
him
.
It
seemed
to
him
that
he
had
been
walking
in
fire
.
Why
had
he
not
known
it
?
With
his
subtle
smile
,
Lord
Henry
watched
him
.
He
knew
the
precise
psychological
moment
when
to
say
nothing
.
He
felt
intensely
interested
.
He
was
amazed
at
the
sudden
impression
that
his
words
had
produced
,
and
,
remembering
a
book
that
he
had
read
when
he
was
sixteen
,
a
book
which
had
revealed
to
him
much
that
he
had
not
known
before
,
he
wondered
whether
Dorian
Gray
was
passing
through
a
similar
experience
.
He
had
merely
shot
an
arrow
into
the
air
.
Had
it
hit
the
mark
?
How
fascinating
the
lad
was
!
Hallward
painted
away
with
that
marvellous
bold
touch
of
his
,
that
had
the
true
refinement
and
perfect
delicacy
that
in
art
,
at
any
rate
,
comes
only
from
strength
.
He
was
unconscious
of
the
silence
.
"
Basil
,
I
am
tired
of
standing
,
"
cried
Dorian
Gray
,
suddenly
.
"
I
must
go
out
and
sit
in
the
garden
.
The
air
is
stifling
here
.
"
"
My
dear
fellow
,
I
am
so
sorry
.
When
I
am
painting
,
I
ca
n't
think
of
anything
else
.
But
you
never
sat
better
.
You
were
perfectly
still
.
And
I
have
caught
the
effect
I
wanted
--
the
half-parted
lips
,
and
the
bright
look
in
the
eyes
.
I
do
n't
know
what
Harry
has
been
saying
to
you
,
but
he
has
certainly
made
you
have
the
most
wonderful
expression
.
I
suppose
he
has
been
paying
you
compliments
.
You
must
n't
believe
a
word
that
he
says
.
"
"
He
has
certainly
not
been
paying
me
compliments
.
Perhaps
that
is
the
reason
that
I
do
n't
believe
anything
he
has
told
me
.
"
"
You
know
you
believe
it
all
,
"
said
Lord
Henry
,
looking
at
him
with
his
dreamy
,
languorous
eyes
.
"
I
will
go
out
to
the
garden
with
you
.
It
is
horribly
hot
in
the
studio
.
Basil
,
let
us
have
something
iced
to
drink
,
something
with
strawberries
in
it
.
"
"
Certainly
,
Harry
.
Just
touch
the
bell
,
and
when
Parker
comes
I
will
tell
him
what
you
want
.
I
have
got
to
work
up
this
background
,
so
I
will
join
you
later
on
.
Do
n't
keep
Dorian
too
long
.
I
have
never
been
in
better
form
for
painting
than
I
am
to-day
.
This
is
going
to
be
my
masterpiece
.
It
is
my
masterpiece
as
it
stands
.
"
Lord
Henry
went
out
to
the
garden
,
and
found
Dorian
Gray
burying
his
face
in
the
great
cool
lilac-blossoms
,
feverishly
drinking
in
their
perfume
as
if
it
had
been
wine
.
He
came
close
to
him
,
and
put
his
hand
upon
his
shoulder
.
"
You
are
quite
right
to
do
that
,
"
he
murmured
.
"
Nothing
can
cure
the
soul
but
the
senses
,
just
as
nothing
can
cure
the
senses
but
the
soul
.
"
