-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Рэй Брэдбери
-
- Марсианские хроники
-
- Стр. 257/287
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
son
moved
away
to
bring
more
chairs
.
"
What
’
s
that
,
Williamson
?
"
"
I
’
m
forty
-
three
myself
,
Captain
.
I
was
in
school
the
same
time
as
young
John
Hathaway
there
,
twenty
years
ago
.
He
says
he
’
s
only
twenty
-
three
now
;
he
only
looks
twenty
-
three
.
But
that
’
s
wrong
.
He
should
be
forty
-
two
,
at
least
.
What
’
s
it
mean
,
sir
?
"
"
I
don
’
t
know
.
"
"
You
look
kind
of
sick
,
sir
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
feel
well
.
The
daughters
,
too
,
I
saw
them
twenty
years
or
so
ago
;
they
haven
’
t
changed
,
not
a
wrinkle
.
Will
you
do
me
a
favor
?
I
want
you
to
run
an
errand
,
Williamson
.
I
’
ll
tell
you
where
to
go
and
what
to
check
.
Late
in
the
breakfast
,
slip
away
.
It
should
take
you
only
ten
minutes
.
The
place
isn
’
t
far
from
here
.
I
saw
it
from
the
rocket
as
we
landed
.
"
"
Here
!
What
are
you
talking
about
so
seriously
?
"
Mrs
.
Hathaway
ladled
quick
spoons
of
soup
into
their
bowls
.
"
Smile
now
;
we
’
re
all
together
,
the
trip
’
s
over
,
and
it
’
s
like
home
!
"
"
Yes
.
"
Captain
Wilder
laughed
.
"
You
certainly
look
very
well
and
young
Mrs
.
Hathaway
!
"
"
Isn
’
t
that
like
a
man
!
"
He
watched
her
drift
away
,
drift
with
her
pink
face
warm
,
smooth
as
an
apple
,
unwrinkled
and
colorful
.