-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Мор - ученик смерти
-
- Стр. 273/357
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
’
And
don
’
t
talk
like
that
to
me
,
thank
you
.
It
doesn
’
t
frighten
me
,
’
she
said
.
She
glanced
down
at
the
book
,
where
the
moving
line
of
writing
was
calling
her
a
liar
.
Tell
me
how
,
wizard
,
’
said
Mort
.
’
My
magic
’
s
all
I
’
ve
got
left
!
’
wailed
Albert
.
’
You
don
’
t
need
it
,
you
old
miser
.
’
’
You
don
’
t
frighten
me
,
boy
—
’
LOOK
INTO
MY
FACE
AND
TELL
ME
THAT
.
Mort
snapped
his
fingers
imperiously
.
Ysabell
bent
her
head
over
the
book
again
.
’
"
Albert
looked
into
the
blue
glow
of
those
eyes
and
the
last
of
his
defiance
drained
away
"
,
’
she
read
,
’
"
for
he
saw
not
just
Death
but
Death
with
all
the
human
seasonings
of
vengeance
and
cruelty
and
distaste
,
and
with
a
terrible
certainty
he
knew
that
this
was
the
last
chance
and
Mort
would
send
him
back
into
Time
and
hunt
him
down
and
take
him
and
deliver
him
bodily
into
the
dark
Dungeon
Dimensions
where
creatures
of
horror
would
dot
dot
dot
dot
dot
"
,
’
she
finished
.
’
It
’
s
just
dots
for
half
a
page
.
’
That
’
s
because
the
book
daren
’
t
even
mention
them
,
’
whispered
Albert
.
He
tried
to
shut
his
eyes
but
the
pictures
in
the
darkness
behind
his
eyelids
were
so
vivid
that
he
opened
them
again
.
Even
Mort
was
better
than
that
.
’
All
right
,
’
he
said
.
There
is
one
spell
.
It
slows
down
time
over
a
little
area
.
I
’
ll
write
it
down
,
but
you
’
ll
have
to
find
a
wizard
to
say
it
.
’
