-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Мор - ученик смерти
-
- Стр. 144/357
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
He
said
,
’
Yes
,
sir
.
It
won
’
t
happen
again
,
sir
.
’
The
skin
on
the
back
of
his
neck
started
to
itch
like
fury
.
SPLENDID
.
Now
,
YOU
TWO
CAN
RUN
ALONG
.
GET
ALBERT
TO
DO
YOU
A
PICNIC
LUNCH
OR
SOMETHING
.
GET
SOME
FRESH
AIR
.
I
’
VE
NOTICED
THE
WAY
YOU
TWO
ALWAYS
AVOID
EACH
OTHER
.
He
gave
Mort
a
conspiratorial
nudge
–
it
was
like
being
poked
with
a
stick
–
and
added
,
ALBERT
’
S
TOLD
ME
WHAT
THAT
MEANS
.
’
Has
he
?
’
said
Mort
gloomily
.
He
’
d
been
wrong
,
there
was
a
light
at
the
end
of
the
tunnel
,
and
it
was
a
flamethrower
.
Death
gave
him
another
of
his
supernova
winks
.
Mort
didn
’
t
return
it
.
Instead
he
turned
and
plodded
towards
the
door
,
at
a
general
speed
and
gait
that
made
Great
A
’
Tuin
look
like
a
spring
lamb
.
He
was
halfway
along
the
corridor
before
he
heard
the
soft
rush
of
footsteps
behind
him
and
a
hand
caught
his
arm
.
’
Mort
?
’
He
turned
and
gazed
at
Ysabell
through
a
fog
of
depression
.
’
Why
did
you
let
him
think
it
was
you
in
the
library
?
’