-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Томас Харди
-
- Возвращение на родину
-
- Стр. 125/387
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
This
was
the
lad
who
had
first
recognized
Eustacia
;
and
when
she
now
,
as
the
Turk
,
replied
with
suitable
defiance
,
and
at
once
began
the
combat
,
the
young
fellow
took
especial
care
to
use
his
sword
as
gently
as
possible
.
Being
wounded
,
the
Knight
fell
upon
one
knee
,
according
to
the
direction
The
Doctor
now
entered
,
restored
the
Knight
by
giving
him
a
draught
from
the
bottle
which
he
carried
,
and
the
fight
was
again
resumed
,
the
Turk
sinking
by
degrees
until
quite
overcome
—
dying
as
hard
in
this
venerable
drama
as
he
is
said
to
do
at
the
present
day
.
This
gradual
sinking
to
the
earth
was
,
in
fact
,
one
reason
why
Eustacia
had
thought
that
the
part
of
the
Turkish
Knight
,
though
not
the
shortest
,
would
suit
her
best
.
A
direct
fall
from
upright
to
horizontal
,
which
was
the
end
of
the
other
fighting
characters
,
was
not
an
elegant
or
decorous
part
for
a
girl
.
But
it
was
easy
to
die
like
a
Turk
,
by
a
dogged
decline
.
Eustacia
was
now
among
the
number
of
the
slain
,
though
not
on
the
floor
,
for
she
had
managed
to
sink
into
a
sloping
position
against
the
clock
-
case
,
so
that
her
head
was
well
elevated
.
The
play
proceeded
between
Saint
George
,
the
Saracen
,
the
Doctor
,
and
Father
Christmas
;
and
Eustacia
,
having
no
more
to
do
,
for
the
first
time
found
leisure
to
observe
the
scene
round
,
and
to
search
for
the
form
that
had
drawn
her
hither
.
The
room
had
been
arranged
with
a
view
to
the
dancing
,
the
large
oak
table
having
been
moved
back
till
it
stood
as
a
breastwork
to
the
fireplace
.
At
each
end
,
behind
,
and
in
the
chimney
-
corner
were
grouped
the
guests
,
many
of
them
being
warm
-
faced
and
panting
,
among
whom
Eustacia
cursorily
recognized
some
well
-
to
-
do
persons
from
beyond
the
heath
.
Thomasin
,
as
she
had
expected
,
was
not
visible
,
and
Eustacia
recollected
that
a
light
had
shone
from
an
upper
window
when
they
were
outside
—
the
window
,
probably
,
of
Thomasin
’
s
room
.
A
nose
,
chin
,
hands
,
knees
,
and
toes
projected
from
the
seat
within
the
chimney
opening
,
which
members
she
found
to
unite
in
the
person
of
Grandfer
Cantle
,
Mrs
.
Yeobright
’
s
occasional
assistant
in
the
garden
,
and
therefore
one
of
the
invited
.
The
smoke
went
up
from
an
Etna
of
peat
in
front
of
him
,
played
round
the
notches
of
the
chimney
-
crook
,
struck
against
the
salt
-
box
,
and
got
lost
among
the
flitches
.
Another
part
of
the
room
soon
riveted
her
gaze
.
At
the
other
side
of
the
chimney
stood
the
settle
,
which
is
the
necessary
supplement
to
a
fire
so
open
that
nothing
less
than
a
strong
breeze
will
carry
up
the
smoke
.
It
is
,
to
the
hearths
of
old
-
fashioned
cavernous
fireplaces
,
what
the
east
belt
of
trees
is
to
the
exposed
country
estate
,
or
the
north
wall
to
the
garden
.
Outside
the
settle
candles
gutter
,
locks
of
hair
wave
,
young
women
shiver
,
and
old
men
sneeze
.
Inside
is
Paradise
.
Not
a
symptom
of
a
draught
disturbs
the
air
;
the
sitters
’
backs
are
as
warm
as
their
faces
,
and
songs
and
old
tales
are
drawn
from
the
occupants
by
the
comfortable
heat
,
like
fruit
from
melon
plants
in
a
frame
.
It
was
,
however
,
not
with
those
who
sat
in
the
settle
that
Eustacia
was
concerned
.
A
face
showed
itself
with
marked
distinctness
against
the
dark
-
tanned
wood
of
the
upper
part
.
The
owner
,
who
was
leaning
against
the
settle
’
s
outer
end
,
was
Clement
Yeobright
,
or
Clym
,
as
he
was
called
here
;
she
knew
it
could
be
nobody
else
.
The
spectacle
constituted
an
area
of
two
feet
in
Rembrandt
’
s
intensest
manner
.
A
strange
power
in
the
lounger
’
s
appearance
lay
in
the
fact
that
,
though
his
whole
figure
was
visible
,
the
observer
’
s
eye
was
only
aware
of
his
face
.
To
one
of
middle
age
the
countenance
was
that
of
a
young
man
,
though
a
youth
might
hardly
have
seen
any
necessity
for
the
term
of
immaturity
.
But
it
was
really
one
of
those
faces
which
convey
less
the
idea
of
so
many
years
as
its
age
than
of
so
much
experience
as
its
store
.
The
number
of
their
years
may
have
adequately
summed
up
Jared
,
Mahalaleel
,
and
the
rest
of
the
antediluvians
,
but
the
age
of
a
modern
man
is
to
be
measured
by
the
intensity
of
his
history
.
The
face
was
well
shaped
,
even
excellently
.
But
the
mind
within
was
beginning
to
use
it
as
a
mere
waste
tablet
whereon
to
trace
its
idiosyncrasies
as
they
developed
themselves
.
The
beauty
here
visible
would
in
no
long
time
be
ruthlessly
over
-
run
by
its
parasite
,
thought
,
which
might
just
as
well
have
fed
upon
a
plainer
exterior
where
there
was
nothing
it
could
harm
.
Had
Heaven
preserved
Yeobright
from
a
wearing
habit
of
meditation
,
people
would
have
said
,
“
A
handsome
man
.
”
Had
his
brain
unfolded
under
sharper
contours
they
would
have
said
,
“
A
thoughtful
man
.
”
But
an
inner
strenuousness
was
preying
upon
an
outer
symmetry
,
and
they
rated
his
look
as
singular
.
