-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Терри Пратчетт
-
- Мор - ученик смерти
-
- Стр. 37/357
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
’
Are
we
talking
about
the
same
person
?
’
he
said
at
last
.
Tall
,
wears
black
,
he
’
s
a
bit
.
.
.
skinny
.
’
Adopted
,
’
said
Albert
,
kindly
.
’
It
’
s
rather
a
long
story
—
’
A
bell
jangled
by
his
head
.
’
—
which
will
have
to
wait
.
He
wants
to
see
you
in
his
study
.
I
should
run
along
if
I
were
you
.
He
doesn
’
t
like
to
be
kept
waiting
.
Understandable
,
really
.
Up
the
steps
and
first
on
the
left
.
You
can
’
t
miss
it
—
’
’
It
’
s
got
skulls
and
bones
around
the
door
?
’
said
Mort
,
pushing
back
his
chair
.
They
all
have
,
most
of
them
,
’
sighed
Albert
.
’
It
’
s
only
his
fancy
.
He
doesn
’
t
mean
anything
by
it
.
’
Leaving
his
breakfast
to
congeal
,
Mort
hurried
up
the
steps
,
along
the
corridor
and
paused
in
front
of
the
first
door
.
He
raised
his
hand
to
knock
.
ENTER
.
The
handle
turned
of
its
own
accord
.
The
door
swung
inward
.
Death
was
seated
behind
a
desk
,
peering
intently
into
a
vast
leather
book
almost
bigger
than
the
desk
itself
.
He
looked
up
as
Mort
came
in
,
keeping
one
calcareous
finger
marking
his
place
,
and
grinned
.
There
wasn
’
t
much
of
an
alternative
.
