-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Уильям Гибсон
-
- Нейромант
-
- Стр. 250/285
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
'
I
pissed
myself
last
night
,
’
he
said
.
'
Well
,
you
don
’
t
wanna
wear
those
.
Saltwater
.
Give
you
sores
.
I
’
ll
show
you
this
pool
back
in
the
rocks
.
’
She
gestured
vaguely
behind
her
.
'
It
’
s
fresh
.
’
The
faded
French
fatigues
had
been
hacked
away
above
the
knee
;
the
skin
below
was
smooth
and
brown
.
A
breeze
caught
at
her
hair
.
'
Listen
,
’
he
said
,
scooping
his
clothes
up
and
walking
toward
her
,
'
I
got
a
question
for
you
.
I
won
’
t
ask
you
what
you
’
re
doing
here
.
But
what
exactly
do
you
think
I
’
m
doing
here
?
’
He
stopped
,
a
wet
black
jeans
-
leg
slapping
against
his
bare
thigh
.
'
You
came
last
night
,
’
she
said
.
She
smiled
at
him
.
'
And
that
’
s
enough
for
you
?
I
just
came
?
’
'
He
said
you
would
,
’
she
said
,
wrinkling
her
nose
.
She
shrugged
.
'
He
knows
stuff
like
that
,
I
guess
.
’
She
lifted
her
left
foot
and
rubbed
salt
from
the
other
ankle
,
awkward
,
childlike
.
She
smiled
at
him
again
,
more
tentatively
.
'
Now
you
answer
me
one
,
okay
?
’
He
nodded
.
'
How
come
you
’
re
painted
brown
like
that
,
all
except
your
foot
.
’
'
And
that
’
s
the
last
thing
you
remember
?
’
He
watched
her
scrape
the
last
of
the
freeze
-
dried
hash
from
the
rectangular
steel
box
cover
that
was
their
only
plate
.
She
nodded
,
her
eyes
huge
in
the
firelight
.
'
I
’
m
sorry
,
Case
,
honest
to
God
.
It
was
just
the
shit
,
I
guess
,
an
’
it
was
.
.
.
’
She
hunched
forward
,
forearms
across
her
knees
,
her
face
twisted
for
a
few
seconds
with
pain
or
its
memory
.
'
I
just
needed
the
money
.
To
get
home
,
I
guess
,
or
.
.
.
hell
,
’
she
said
,
'
you
wouldn
’
t
hardly
talk
to
me
.
’
