-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Стража! Стража!
-
- Стр. 103/477
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
’
s
slightly
brighter
than
the
others
,
he
thought
.
Slightly
less
gullible
,
at
least
.
Better
make
sure
I
’
m
always
the
last
to
leave
.
Don
’
t
want
any
clever
ideas
about
following
me
home
.
.
.
.
You
need
a
special
kind
of
mind
to
rule
a
city
like
Ankh
-
Morpork
,
and
Lord
Vetinari
had
it
.
But
then
,
he
was
a
special
kind
of
person
.
He
baffled
and
infuriated
the
lesser
merchant
princes
,
to
the
extent
that
they
had
long
ago
given
up
trying
to
assassinate
him
and
now
merely
jockeyed
for
position
amongst
themselves
.
Anyway
,
any
assassin
who
tried
to
attack
the
Patrician
would
be
hard
put
to
it
to
find
enough
flesh
to
insert
the
dagger
.
While
other
lords
dined
on
larks
stuffed
with
peacocks
’
tongues
,
Lord
Vetinari
considered
that
a
glass
of
boiled
water
and
half
a
slice
of
dry
bread
was
an
elegant
sufficiency
.
It
was
exasperating
.
He
appeared
to
have
no
vice
that
anyone
could
discover
.
You
’
d
have
thought
,
with
that
pale
,
equine
face
,
that
he
’
d
incline
towards
stuff
with
whips
,
needles
,
and
young
women
in
dungeons
.
The
other
lords
could
have
accepted
that
.
Nothing
wrong
with
whips
and
needles
,
in
moderation
.
But
the
Patrician
apparently
spent
his
evenings
studying
reports
and
,
on
special
occasions
,
if
he
could
stand
the
excitement
,
playing
chess
.
He
wore
black
a
lot
.
It
wasn
’
t
particularly
impressive
black
,
such
as
the
best
assassins
wore
,
but
the
sober
,
slightly
shabby
black
of
a
man
who
doesn
’
t
want
to
waste
time
in
the
mornings
wondering
what
to
wear
.
And
you
had
to
get
up
very
early
in
the
morning
to
get
the
better
of
the
Patrician
;
in
fact
,
it
was
wiser
not
to
go
to
bed
at
all
.
But
he
was
popular
,
in
a
way
.
Under
his
hand
,
for
the
first
time
in
a
thousand
years
,
Ankh
-
Morpork
operated
.
It
might
not
be
fair
or
just
or
particularly
democratic
,
but
it
worked
.
He
tended
it
as
one
tends
a
topiary
bush
,
encouraging
a
growth
here
,
pruning
an
errant
twig
there
.
It
was
said
that
he
would
tolerate
absolutely
anything
apart
from
anything
that
threatened
the
city
,
and
here
it
was
.
.
.
He
stared
at
the
stricken
wall
for
a
long
time
,
while
the
rain
dripped
off
his
chin
and
soaked
his
clothes
.
Behind
him
,
Wonse
hovered
nervously
.
