-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Стража! Стража!
-
- Стр. 299/477
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
With
plumes
in
their
damn
helmets
.
Well
,
he
’
d
had
enough
.
It
wasn
’
t
a
proper
life
anyway
,
in
the
Watch
.
You
didn
’
t
meet
people
in
the
best
of
circumstances
.
There
must
be
hundreds
of
other
things
he
could
do
,
and
if
he
thought
for
long
enough
he
could
probably
remember
what
some
of
them
were
.
Pseudopolis
Yard
was
off
the
route
of
the
procession
,
and
as
he
stumbled
into
the
Watch
House
he
could
hear
the
distant
cheering
beyond
the
rooftops
.
Across
the
city
the
temple
gongs
were
being
sounded
.
Now
they
are
ringing
the
gongs
,
thought
Vimes
,
but
soon
they
will
-
they
will
-
they
will
not
be
ringing
the
gongs
.
Not
much
of
an
aphorism
,
he
thought
,
but
he
could
work
on
it
.
He
had
the
time
,
now
.
Vimes
noticed
the
mess
.
Errol
had
started
eating
again
.
He
’
d
eaten
most
of
the
table
,
the
grate
,
the
coal
scuttle
,
several
lamps
and
the
squeaky
rubber
hippo
.
Now
he
lay
in
his
box
again
,
skin
twitching
,
whimpering
in
his
sleep
.
"
A
right
mess
you
’
ve
made
,
"
said
Vimes
enigmatically
.
Still
,
at
least
he
wouldn
’
t
have
to
tidy
it
up
.
He
opened
his
desk
drawer
.
Someone
had
eaten
into
that
,
too
.
All
that
was
left
was
a
few
shards
of
glass
.
Sergeant
Colon
hauled
himself
on
to
the
parapet
around
the
Temple
of
Small
Gods
.
He
was
too
old
for
this
sort
of
thing
.
He
’
d
joined
for
the
bell
ringing
,
not
sitting
around
on
high
places
waiting
for
dragons
to
find
him
.
