-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Томас Харди
-
- Тэсс из рода д’Эрбервиллей
-
- Стр. 119/360
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
“
Well
—
I
sometimes
think
that
too
.
”
“
But
how
silly
all
this
is
!
”
said
Izz
Huett
impatiently
.
“
Of
course
he
won
’
t
marry
any
one
of
us
,
or
Tess
either
—
a
gentleman
’
s
son
,
who
’
s
going
to
be
a
great
landowner
and
farmer
abroad
!
More
likely
to
ask
us
to
come
wi
’
en
as
farm
-
hands
at
so
much
a
year
!
”
One
sighed
,
and
another
sighed
,
and
Marian
’
s
plump
figure
sighed
biggest
of
all
.
Somebody
in
bed
hard
by
sighed
too
.
Tears
came
into
the
eyes
of
Retty
Priddle
,
the
pretty
red
-
haired
youngest
—
the
last
bud
of
the
Paridelles
,
so
important
in
the
county
annals
.
They
watched
silently
a
little
longer
,
their
three
faces
still
close
together
as
before
,
and
the
triple
hues
of
their
hair
mingling
.
But
the
unconscious
Mr
Clare
had
gone
indoors
,
and
they
saw
him
no
more
;
and
,
the
shades
beginning
to
deepen
,
they
crept
into
their
beds
.
In
a
few
minutes
they
heard
him
ascend
the
ladder
to
his
own
room
.
Marian
was
soon
snoring
,
but
Izz
did
not
drop
into
forgetfulness
for
a
long
time
.
Retty
Priddle
cried
herself
to
sleep
.
The
deeper
-
passioned
Tess
was
very
far
from
sleeping
even
then
.
This
conversation
was
another
of
the
bitter
pills
she
had
been
obliged
to
swallow
that
day
.
Scarce
the
least
feeling
of
jealousy
arose
in
her
breast
.
For
that
matter
she
knew
herself
to
have
the
preference
.
Being
more
finely
formed
,
better
educated
,
and
,
though
the
youngest
except
Retty
,
more
woman
than
either
,
she
perceived
that
only
the
slightest
ordinary
care
was
necessary
for
holding
her
own
in
Angel
Clare
’
s
heart
against
these
her
candid
friends
.
But
the
grave
question
was
,
ought
she
to
do
this
?
There
was
,
to
be
sure
,
hardly
a
ghost
of
a
chance
for
either
of
them
,
in
a
serious
sense
;
but
there
was
,
or
had
been
,
a
chance
of
one
or
the
other
inspiring
him
with
a
passing
fancy
for
her
,
and
enjoying
the
pleasure
of
his
attentions
while
he
stayed
here
.
Such
unequal
attachments
had
led
to
marriage
;
and
she
had
heard
from
Mrs
Crick
that
Mr
Clare
had
one
day
asked
,
in
a
laughing
way
,
what
would
be
the
use
of
his
marrying
a
fine
lady
,
and
all
the
while
ten
thousand
acres
of
Colonial
pasture
to
feed
,
and
cattle
to
rear
,
and
corn
to
reap
.
A
farm
-
woman
would
be
the
only
sensible
kind
of
wife
for
him
But
whether
Mr
Clare
had
spoken
seriously
or
not
,
why
should
she
,
who
could
never
conscientiously
allow
any
man
to
marry
her
now
,
and
who
had
religiously
determined
that
she
never
would
be
tempted
to
do
so
,
draw
off
Mr
Clare
’
s
attention
from
other
women
,
for
the
brief
happiness
of
sunning
herself
in
his
eyes
while
he
remained
at
Talbothays
?
They
came
downstairs
yawning
next
morning
;
but
skimming
and
milking
were
proceeded
with
as
usual
,
and
they
went
indoors
to
breakfast
.
Dairyman
Crick
was
discovered
stamping
about
the
house
.
He
had
received
a
letter
,
in
which
a
customer
had
complained
that
the
butter
had
a
twang
.
“
And
begad
,
so
‘
t
have
!
”
said
the
dairyman
,
who
held
in
his
left
hand
a
wooden
slice
on
which
a
lump
of
butter
was
stuck
.
“
Yes
—
taste
for
yourself
!
”
Several
of
them
gathered
round
him
;
and
Mr
Clare
tasted
,
Tess
tasted
,
also
the
other
indoor
milkmaids
,
one
or
two
of
the
milking
-
men
,
and
last
of
all
Mrs
Crick
,
who
came
out
from
the
waiting
breakfast
-
table
.
There
certainly
was
a
twang
.
The
dairyman
,
who
had
thrown
himself
into
abstraction
to
better
realize
the
taste
,
and
so
divine
the
particular
species
of
noxious
weed
to
which
it
appertained
,
suddenly
exclaimed
—
