-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Теодор Драйзер
-
- Американская трагедия
-
- Стр. 571/598
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
"
And
after
him
again
--
but
,
oh
--
that
was
so
hard
;
so
much
closer
to
Clyde
--
so
depleting
to
his
strength
to
think
of
bearing
this
deadly
life
here
without
--
Miller
Nicholson
--
no
less
.
For
after
five
months
in
which
they
had
been
able
to
walk
and
talk
and
call
to
each
other
from
time
to
time
from
their
cells
and
Nicholson
had
begun
to
advise
him
as
to
books
to
read
--
as
well
as
one
important
point
in
connection
with
his
own
case
--
on
appeal
--
or
in
the
event
of
any
second
trial
,
i.e.
--
that
the
admission
of
Roberta
's
letters
as
evidence
,
as
they
stood
,
at
least
,
be
desperately
fought
on
the
ground
that
the
emotional
force
of
them
was
detrimental
in
the
case
of
any
jury
anywhere
,
to
a
calm
unbiased
consideration
of
the
material
facts
presented
by
them
--
and
that
instead
of
the
letters
being
admitted
as
they
stood
they
should
be
digested
for
the
facts
alone
and
that
digest
--
and
that
only
offered
to
the
jury
.
"
If
your
lawyers
can
get
the
Court
of
Appeals
to
agree
to
the
soundness
of
that
you
will
win
your
case
sure
.
"
And
Clyde
at
once
,
after
inducing
a
personal
visit
on
the
part
of
Jephson
,
laying
this
suggestion
before
him
and
hearing
him
say
that
it
was
sound
and
that
he
and
Belknap
would
assuredly
incorporate
it
in
their
appeal
.
Yet
not
so
long
after
that
the
guard
,
after
locking
his
door
on
returning
from
the
courtyard
whispered
,
with
a
nod
in
the
direction
of
Nicholson
's
cell
,
"
His
next
.
Did
he
tell
you
?
Within
three
days
.
"
And
at
once
Clyde
shriveling
--
the
news
playing
upon
him
as
an
icy
and
congealing
breath
.
For
he
had
just
come
from
the
courtyard
with
him
where
they
had
walked
and
talked
of
another
man
who
had
just
been
brought
in
--
a
Hungarian
of
Utica
who
was
convicted
of
burning
his
paramour
--
in
a
furnace
--
then
confessing
it
--
a
huge
,
rough
,
dark
,
ignorant
man
with
a
face
like
a
gargoyle
.
And
Nicholson
saying
he
was
more
animal
than
man
,
he
was
sure
.
Yet
no
word
about
himself
.
And
in
THREE
DAYS
!
And
he
could
walk
and
talk
as
though
there
was
nothing
to
happen
,
although
,
according
to
the
guard
,
he
had
been
notified
the
night
before
.
And
the
next
day
the
same
--
walking
and
talking
as
though
nothing
had
happened
--
looking
up
at
the
sky
and
breathing
the
air
.
Yet
Clyde
,
his
companion
,
too
sick
and
feverish
--
too
awed
and
terrified
from
merely
thinking
on
it
all
night
to
be
able
to
say
much
of
anything
as
he
walked
but
thinking
:
"
And
he
can
walk
here
.
And
be
so
calm
.
What
sort
of
a
man
is
this
?
"
and
feeling
enormously
overawed
and
weakened
.
The
following
morning
Nicholson
did
not
appear
--
but
remained
in
his
cell
destroying
many
letters
he
had
received
from
many
places
.
And
near
noon
,
calling
to
Clyde
who
was
two
cells
removed
from
him
on
the
other
side
:
"
I
'm
sending
you
something
to
remember
me
by
.
"
But
not
a
word
as
to
his
going
.
And
then
the
guard
bringing
two
books
--
Robinson
Crusoe
and
the
Arabian
Nights
.
That
night
Nicholson
's
removal
from
his
cell
--
and
the
next
morning
before
dawn
the
curtains
;
the
same
procession
passing
through
,
which
was
by
now
an
old
story
to
Clyde
.
But
somehow
this
was
so
different
--
so
intimate
--
so
cruel
.
And
as
he
passed
,
calling
:
"
God
bless
you
all
.
I
hope
you
have
good
luck
and
get
out
.
"
And
then
that
terrible
stillness
that
followed
the
passing
of
each
man
.