-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Томас Рид
-
- Всадник без головы
-
- Стр. 519/662
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
As
yet
no
such
had
arisen
between
Cassius
Calhoun
and
Isidora
Covarubio
de
los
Llanos
.
If
it
had
been
possible
,
both
might
have
been
willing
to
avoid
the
encounter
.
Isidora
certainly
was
.
She
had
no
predilection
for
the
ex-officer
of
dragoons
;
and
besides
the
knowledge
that
he
was
the
lover
of
her
rival
,
there
was
another
thought
that
now
rendered
his
presence
,
if
not
disagreeable
,
at
least
not
desirable
.
She
remembered
the
chase
of
the
sham
Indians
,
and
its
ending
.
She
knew
that
among
the
Texans
there
had
been
much
conjecture
as
to
her
abrupt
disappearance
,
after
appealing
to
them
for
protection
.
She
had
her
own
motive
for
that
,
which
she
did
not
intend
to
declare
;
and
the
man
about
meeting
her
might
be
inclined
to
ask
questions
on
the
subject
.
She
would
have
passed
with
a
simple
salutation
--
she
could
not
give
less
than
that
.
And
perhaps
he
might
have
done
the
same
;
but
for
a
thought
which
at
that
moment
came
into
his
mind
,
entirely
unconnected
with
the
reflections
already
there
engendered
.
It
was
not
the
lady
herself
who
suggested
the
thought
.
Despite
her
splendid
beauty
,
he
had
no
admiration
for
her
.
In
his
breast
,
ruthless
as
it
might
have
been
,
there
was
no
space
left
for
a
second
passion
--
not
even
a
sensual
one
--
for
her
thus
encountered
in
the
solitude
of
the
chapparal
,
with
Nature
whispering
wild
,
wicked
suggestions
.
It
was
no
idea
of
this
that
caused
him
to
rein
up
in
the
middle
of
the
path
;
remove
the
cap
from
his
crown
;
and
,
by
a
courtly
salutation
,
invite
a
dialogue
with
Isidora
.
So
challenged
,
she
could
not
avoid
the
conversation
;
that
commenced
upon
the
instant
--
Calhoun
taking
the
initiative
.
"
Excuse
me
,
señorita
,
"
said
he
,
his
glance
directed
more
upon
her
steed
than
herself
;
"
I
know
it
's
very
rude
thus
to
interrupt
your
ride
;
especially
on
the
part
of
a
stranger
,
as
with
sorrow
I
am
compelled
to
call
myself
.
"