-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Стивен Кинг
-
- Темная башня: Стрелок
-
- Стр. 12/63
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
gunslinger
closed
his
eyes
His
mind
whirled
crazily
.
"
You
doped
me
,
"
he
said
thickly
.
"
No
.
I
’
ve
done
nothing
.
"
The
gunslinger
opened
his
eyes
warily
.
"
You
won
’
t
feel
right
about
it
unless
I
invite
you
,
"
Brown
said
.
"
And
so
I
do
.
Will
you
tell
me
about
Tull
?
"
The
gunslinger
opened
his
mouth
hesitantly
and
was
surprised
to
find
that
this
time
the
words
were
there
.
He
began
to
speak
in
flat
bursts
that
slowly
spread
into
an
even
,
slightly
toneless
narrative
.
The
doped
feeling
left
him
,
and
he
found
himself
oddly
excited
.
He
talked
deep
into
the
night
.
Brown
did
not
interrupt
at
all
.
Neither
did
the
bird
.
He
had
bought
the
mule
in
Pricetown
,
and
when
he
reached
Tull
,
it
was
still
fresh
.
The
sun
had
set
an
hour
earlier
,
but
the
gunslinger
had
continued
traveling
,
guided
by
the
town
glow
in
the
sky
,
then
by
the
uncannily
clear
notes
of
a
honky
-
tonk
piano
playing
Hey
Jude
.
The
road
widened
as
it
took
on
tributaries
.
The
forests
had
been
gone
long
now
,
replaced
by
the
monotonous
flat
country
:
endless
,
desolate
fields
gone
to
timothy
and
low
shrubs
,
shacks
,
eerie
,
deserted
estates
guarded
by
brooding
,
shadowed
mansions
where
demons
undeniably
walked
;
leering
,
empty
shanties
where
the
people
had
either
moved
on
or
had
been
moved
along
,
an
occasional
dweller
’
s
hovel
,
given
away
by
a
single
flickering
point
of
light
in
the
dark
,
or
by
sullen
,
inbred
clans
toiling
silently
in
the
fields
by
day
.
Corn
was
the
main
crop
,
but
there
were
beans
and
also
some
peas
.
An
occasional
scrawny
cow
stared
at
him
lumpishly
from
between
peeled
alder
poles
.
Coaches
had
passed
him
four
times
,
twice
coming
and
twice
going
,
nearly
empty
as
they
came
up
on
him
from
behind
and
bypassed
him
and
his
mule
,
fuller
as
they
headed
back
toward
the
forests
of
the
north
.
It
was
ugly
country
.
It
had
showered
twice
since
he
had
left
Pricetown
,
grudgingly
both
times
.
Even
the
timothy
looked
yellow
and
dispirited
.
Ugly
country
.
He
had
seen
no
sign
of
the
man
in
black
.
Perhaps
he
had
taken
a
coach
.