-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Уильям Тэккерей
-
- Ярмарка тщеславия
-
- Стр. 401/431
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
Well
,
she
was
hanging
on
the
arm
of
Major
Loder
,
and
they
went
through
the
rooms
together
,
and
drank
a
great
quantity
of
champagne
at
the
buffet
,
where
the
people
,
and
especially
the
Major
's
irregular
corps
,
struggled
furiously
for
refreshments
,
of
which
when
the
pair
had
had
enough
,
they
pushed
on
until
they
reached
the
Duchess
's
own
pink
velvet
saloon
,
at
the
end
of
the
suite
of
apartments
(
where
the
statue
of
the
Venus
is
,
and
the
great
Venice
looking-glasses
,
framed
in
silver
)
,
and
where
the
princely
family
were
entertaining
their
most
distinguished
guests
at
a
round
table
at
supper
.
It
was
just
such
a
little
select
banquet
as
that
of
which
Becky
recollected
that
she
had
partaken
at
Lord
Steyne
's
--
and
there
he
sat
at
Polonia
's
table
,
and
she
saw
him
.
The
scar
cut
by
the
diamond
on
his
white
,
bald
,
shining
forehead
made
a
burning
red
mark
;
his
red
whiskers
were
dyed
of
a
purple
hue
,
which
made
his
pale
face
look
still
paler
.
He
wore
his
collar
and
orders
,
his
blue
ribbon
and
garter
.
He
was
a
greater
Prince
than
any
there
,
though
there
was
a
reigning
Duke
and
a
Royal
Highness
,
with
their
princesses
,
and
near
his
Lordship
was
seated
the
beautiful
Countess
of
Belladonna
,
nee
de
Glandier
,
whose
husband
(
the
Count
Paolo
della
Belladonna
)
,
so
well
known
for
his
brilliant
entomological
collections
,
had
been
long
absent
on
a
mission
to
the
Emperor
of
Morocco
.
When
Becky
beheld
that
familiar
and
illustrious
face
,
how
vulgar
all
of
a
sudden
did
Major
Loder
appear
to
her
,
and
how
that
odious
Captain
Rook
did
smell
of
tobacco
!
In
one
instant
she
reassumed
her
fine-ladyship
and
tried
to
look
and
feel
as
if
she
were
in
May
Fair
once
more
.
"
That
woman
looks
stupid
and
ill-humoured
,
"
she
thought
;
"
I
am
sure
she
ca
n't
amuse
him
.
No
,
he
must
be
bored
by
her
--
he
never
was
by
me
.
"
A
hundred
such
touching
hopes
,
fears
,
and
memories
palpitated
in
her
little
heart
,
as
she
looked
with
her
brightest
eyes
(
the
rouge
which
she
wore
up
to
her
eyelids
made
them
twinkle
)
towards
the
great
nobleman
.
Of
a
Star
and
Garter
night
Lord
Steyne
used
also
to
put
on
his
grandest
manner
and
to
look
and
speak
like
a
great
prince
,
as
he
was
.
Becky
admired
him
smiling
sumptuously
,
easy
,
lofty
,
and
stately
.
Ah
,
bon
Dieu
,
what
a
pleasant
companion
he
was
,
what
a
brilliant
wit
,
what
a
rich
fund
of
talk
,
what
a
grand
manner
!
--
and
she
had
exchanged
this
for
Major
Loder
,
reeking
of
cigars
and
brandy-and-water
,
and
Captain
Rook
with
his
horsejockey
jokes
and
prize-ring
slang
,
and
their
like
.
"
I
wonder
whether
he
will
know
me
,
"
she
thought
.
Lord
Steyne
was
talking
and
laughing
with
a
great
and
illustrious
lady
at
his
side
,
when
he
looked
up
and
saw
Becky
.
She
was
all
over
in
a
flutter
as
their
eyes
met
,
and
she
put
on
the
very
best
smile
she
could
muster
,
and
dropped
him
a
little
,
timid
,
imploring
curtsey
.
He
stared
aghast
at
her
for
a
minute
,
as
Macbeth
might
on
beholding
Banquo
's
sudden
appearance
at
his
ball-supper
,
and
remained
looking
at
her
with
open
mouth
,
when
that
horrid
Major
Loder
pulled
her
away
.
"
Come
away
into
the
supper-room
,
Mrs.
R.
,
"
was
that
gentleman
's
remark
:
"
seeing
these
nobs
grubbing
away
has
made
me
peckish
too
.
Let
's
go
and
try
the
old
governor
's
champagne
.
"
Becky
thought
the
Major
had
had
a
great
deal
too
much
already
.
The
day
after
she
went
to
walk
on
the
Pincian
Hill
--
the
Hyde
Park
of
the
Roman
idlers
--
possibly
in
hopes
to
have
another
sight
of
Lord
Steyne
.
But
she
met
another
acquaintance
there
:
it
was
Mr.
Fiche
,
his
lordship
's
confidential
man
,
who
came
up
nodding
to
her
rather
familiarly
and
putting
a
finger
to
his
hat
.
"
I
knew
that
Madame
was
here
,
"
he
said
;
"
I
followed
her
from
her
hotel
.
I
have
some
advice
to
give
Madame
.
"
"
From
the
Marquis
of
Steyne
?
"
Becky
asked
,
resuming
as
much
of
her
dignity
as
she
could
muster
,
and
not
a
little
agitated
by
hope
and
expectation
.
"
No
,
"
said
the
valet
;
"
it
is
from
me
.
Rome
is
very
unwholesome
.
"
