-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Мор - ученик смерти
-
- Стр. 125/357
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
She
was
so
distraught
she
didn
’
t
even
notice
that
the
knocker
winked
at
her
.
She
tried
again
,
and
thought
she
heard
a
distant
crash
.
After
some
time
the
door
opened
a
few
inches
and
she
caught
a
glimpse
of
a
round
flustered
face
topped
with
curly
hair
.
Her
right
foot
surprised
her
by
intelligently
inserting
itself
in
the
crack
.
’
I
demand
to
see
the
wizard
,
’
she
announced
.
’
Pray
admit
me
this
instant
.
’
’
He
’
s
rather
busy
at
present
,
’
said
the
face
.
’
Were
you
after
a
love
potion
?
’
’
A
what
?
’
’
I
’
ve
–
we
’
ve
got
a
special
on
Cutwell
’
s
Shield
of
Passion
ointment
,
’
said
the
face
,
and
winked
in
a
startling
fashion
.
’
Provides
your
wild
oats
while
guaranteeing
a
crop
failure
,
if
you
know
what
I
mean
.
’
Keli
bridled
.
’
No
,
’
she
lied
coldly
,
’
I
do
not
.
’
’
Ramrub
?
Maidens
’
Longstop
?
Belladonna
eyedrops
?
’
’
I
demand
—
’
’
Sorry
,
we
’
re
closed
,
’
said
the
face
,
and
shut
the
door
.
Keli
withdrew
her
foot
just
in
time
.
