-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Уильям Тэккерей
-
- Ярмарка тщеславия
-
- Стр. 211/431
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
The
disasters
deepened
as
Regulus
spoke
.
He
was
the
only
man
of
his
regiment
not
slain
on
the
field
.
He
had
seen
the
Duke
of
Brunswick
fall
,
the
black
hussars
fly
,
the
Ecossais
pounded
down
by
the
cannon
.
"
And
the
--
th
?
"
gasped
Jos.
"
Cut
in
pieces
,
"
said
the
hussar
--
upon
which
Pauline
cried
out
,
"
O
my
mistress
,
ma
bonne
petite
dame
,
"
went
off
fairly
into
hysterics
,
and
filled
the
house
with
her
screams
.
Wild
with
terror
,
Mr.
Sedley
knew
not
how
or
where
to
seek
for
safety
.
He
rushed
from
the
kitchen
back
to
the
sitting-room
,
and
cast
an
appealing
look
at
Amelia
's
door
,
which
Mrs.
O'Dowd
had
closed
and
locked
in
his
face
;
but
he
remembered
how
scornfully
the
latter
had
received
him
,
and
after
pausing
and
listening
for
a
brief
space
at
the
door
,
he
left
it
,
and
resolved
to
go
into
the
street
,
for
the
first
time
that
day
.
So
,
seizing
a
candle
,
he
looked
about
for
his
gold-laced
cap
,
and
found
it
lying
in
its
usual
place
,
on
a
console-table
,
in
the
anteroom
,
placed
before
a
mirror
at
which
Jos
used
to
coquet
,
always
giving
his
side-locks
a
twirl
,
and
his
cap
the
proper
cock
over
his
eye
,
before
he
went
forth
to
make
appearance
in
public
.
Such
is
the
force
of
habit
,
that
even
in
the
midst
of
his
terror
he
began
mechanically
to
twiddle
with
his
hair
,
and
arrange
the
cock
of
his
hat
.
Then
he
looked
amazed
at
the
pale
face
in
the
glass
before
him
,
and
especially
at
his
mustachios
,
which
had
attained
a
rich
growth
in
the
course
of
near
seven
weeks
,
since
they
had
come
into
the
world
.
They
WILL
mistake
me
for
a
military
man
,
thought
he
,
remembering
Isidor
's
warning
as
to
the
massacre
with
which
all
the
defeated
British
army
was
threatened
;
and
staggering
back
to
his
bedchamber
,
he
began
wildly
pulling
the
bell
which
summoned
his
valet
.
Isidor
answered
that
summons
.
Jos
had
sunk
in
a
chair
--
he
had
torn
off
his
neckcloths
,
and
turned
down
his
collars
,
and
was
sitting
with
both
his
hands
lifted
to
his
throat
.
"
Coupez-moi
,
Isidor
,
"
shouted
he
;
"
vite
!
Coupez-moi
!
"
Isidor
thought
for
a
moment
he
had
gone
mad
,
and
that
he
wished
his
valet
to
cut
his
throat
.
"
Les
moustaches
,
"
gasped
Joe
;
"
les
moustaches
--
coupy
,
rasy
,
vite
!
"
--
his
French
was
of
this
sort
--
voluble
,
as
we
have
said
,
but
not
remarkable
for
grammar
.
Isidor
swept
off
the
mustachios
in
no
time
with
the
razor
,
and
heard
with
inexpressible
delight
his
master
's
orders
that
he
should
fetch
a
hat
and
a
plain
coat
.
"
Ne
porty
ploo
--
habit
militair
--
bonn
--
bonny
a
voo
,
prenny
dehors
"
--
were
Jos
's
words
--
the
coat
and
cap
were
at
last
his
property
.
This
gift
being
made
,
Jos
selected
a
plain
black
coat
and
waistcoat
from
his
stock
,
and
put
on
a
large
white
neckcloth
,
and
a
plain
beaver
.
If
he
could
have
got
a
shovel
hat
he
would
have
worn
it
.
As
it
was
,
you
would
have
fancied
he
was
a
flourishing
,
large
parson
of
the
Church
of
England
.
