-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Уильям Сомерсет Моэм
-
- Театр
-
- Стр. 68/246
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
She
was
surprised
,
for
he
had
said
nothing
about
it
.
He
looked
at
her
with
a
faint
smile
.
"
No
.
But
I
’
m
not
going
to
see
you
any
more
.
"
"
Why
?
"
"
I
think
you
know
just
as
well
as
I
do
.
"
Then
Julia
did
a
disgraceful
thing
.
She
sat
down
and
for
a
minute
looked
silently
at
the
miniature
.
Timing
it
perfectly
,
she
raised
her
eyes
till
they
met
Charles
’
s
.
She
could
cry
almost
at
will
,
it
was
one
of
her
most
telling
accomplishments
,
and
now
without
a
sound
,
without
a
sob
,
the
tears
poured
down
her
cheeks
.
With
her
mouth
slightly
open
,
with
the
look
in
her
eyes
of
a
child
that
has
been
deeply
hurt
and
does
not
know
why
,
the
effect
was
unbearably
pathetic
.
His
face
was
crossed
by
a
twinge
of
agony
.
When
he
spoke
his
voice
was
hoarse
with
emotion
.
"
You
’
re
in
love
with
Michael
,
aren
’
t
you
?
"
She
gave
a
little
nod
.
She
tightened
her
lips
as
though
she
were
trying
to
control
herself
,
but
the
tears
rolled
down
her
cheeks
.
"
There
’
s
no
chance
for
me
at
all
?
"
He
waited
for
some
answer
from
her
,
but
she
gave
none
,
she
raised
her
hand
to
her
mouth
and
seemed
to
bite
a
nail
,
and
still
she
stared
at
him
with
those
streaming
eyes
.
"
Don
’
t
you
know
what
torture
it
is
to
go
on
seeing
you
?
D
’
you
want
me
to
go
on
seeing
you
?
"
Again
she
gave
a
little
nod
.
"
Clara
’
s
making
me
scenes
about
you
.
She
’
s
found
out
I
’
m
in
love
with
you
.
It
’
s
only
common
sense
that
we
shouldn
’
t
see
one
another
any
more
.
"
