-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Стража! Стража!
-
- Стр. 469/477
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
padded
back
to
the
house
.
A
door
was
open
.
It
led
into
a
large
but
dark
and
musty
hall
.
Up
in
the
gloom
the
heads
of
dead
animals
haunted
the
walls
.
The
Ramkins
seemed
to
have
endangered
more
species
than
an
ice
age
.
Vimes
wandered
aimlessly
through
another
mahogany
archway
.
It
was
a
dining
room
,
containing
the
kind
of
table
where
the
people
at
the
other
end
are
in
a
different
time
zone
.
One
end
had
been
colonised
by
silver
candlesticks
.
It
was
laid
for
two
.
A
battery
of
cutlery
flanked
each
plate
.
Antique
wineglasses
sparkled
in
the
candlelight
.
A
terrible
premonition
took
hold
of
Vimes
at
the
same
moment
as
a
gust
of
Captivation
,
the
most
expensive
perfume
available
anywhere
in
Ankh
-
Morpork
,
blew
past
him
.
"
Ah
,
Captain
.
So
nice
of
you
to
come
.
"
Vimes
turned
around
slowly
,
without
his
feet
appearing
to
move
.
Lady
Ramkin
stood
there
,
magnificently
.
Vimes
was
vaguely
aware
of
a
brilliant
blue
dress
that
sparkled
in
the
candlelight
,
a
mass
of
hair
the
colour
of
chestnuts
,
a
slightly
anxious
face
that
suggested
that
a
whole
battalion
of
skilled
painters
and
decorators
had
only
just
dismantled
their
scaffolding
and
gone
home
,
and
a
faint
creaking
that
said
underneath
it
all
mere
corsetry
was
being
subjected
to
the
kind
of
tensions
more
usually
found
in
the
heart
of
large
stars
.
"
I
,
er
,
"
he
said
.
"
If
you
,
er
.
If
you
’
d
said
,
er
.
I
’
d
,
er
.
Dress
more
suitable
,
er
.
Extremely
,
er
.
Very
.
Er
.
"
