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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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- Стр. 212/287
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His
wife
swayed
over
the
huddled
pile
.
"
That
’
s
no
weapon
,
"
she
said
,
bending
down
.
She
picked
up
the
bronze
tube
.
"
He
was
going
to
show
you
a
message
.
It
’
s
all
written
out
in
snake
-
script
,
all
the
blue
snakes
.
I
can
’
t
read
it
.
Can
you
?
"
"
No
,
that
Martian
picture
writing
,
it
wasn
’
t
anything
.
Let
it
go
!
"
Sam
glanced
hastily
around
.
"
There
may
be
others
!
We
’
ve
got
to
get
him
out
of
sight
.
Get
the
shovel
!
"
"
What
’
re
you
going
to
do
?
"
"
Bury
him
,
of
course
!
"
"
You
shouldn
’
t
have
shot
him
.
"
"
It
was
a
mistake
.
Quick
!
"
Silently
she
fetched
him
the
shovel
.
At
eight
o
’
clock
he
was
back
sweeping
the
front
of
the
hotdog
stand
self
-
consciously
.
His
wife
stood
,
arms
folded
,
in
the
bright
doorway
.
"
I
’
m
sorry
what
happened
,
"
he
said
.
He
looked
at
her
,
then
away
.
"
You
know
it
was
purely
the
circumstances
of
Fate
.
"
