-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Вирджиния Вульф
-
- Миссис Дэллоуэй
-
- Стр. 68/96
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
At
every
moment
Nature
signified
by
some
laughing
hint
like
that
gold
spot
which
went
round
the
wall
--
there
,
there
,
there
--
her
determination
to
show
,
by
brandishing
her
plumes
,
shaking
her
tresses
,
flinging
her
mantle
this
way
and
that
,
beautifully
,
always
beautifully
,
and
standing
close
up
to
breathe
through
her
hollowed
hands
Shakespeare
's
words
,
her
meaning
.
Rezia
,
sitting
at
the
table
twisting
a
hat
in
her
hands
,
watched
him
;
saw
him
smiling
.
He
was
happy
then
.
But
she
could
not
bear
to
see
him
smiling
.
It
was
not
marriage
;
it
was
not
being
one
's
husband
to
look
strange
like
that
,
always
to
be
starting
,
laughing
,
sitting
hour
after
hour
silent
,
or
clutching
her
and
telling
her
to
write
.
The
table
drawer
was
full
of
those
writings
;
about
war
;
about
Shakespeare
;
about
great
discoveries
;
how
there
is
no
death
.
Lately
he
had
become
excited
suddenly
for
no
reason
(
and
both
Dr.
Holmes
and
Sir
William
Bradshaw
said
excitement
was
the
worst
thing
for
him
)
,
and
waved
his
hands
and
cried
out
that
he
knew
the
truth
!
He
knew
everything
!
That
man
,
his
friend
who
was
killed
,
Evans
,
had
come
,
he
said
.
He
was
singing
behind
the
screen
.
She
wrote
it
down
just
as
he
spoke
it
.
Some
things
were
very
beautiful
;
others
sheer
nonsense
.
And
he
was
always
stopping
in
the
middle
,
changing
his
mind
;
wanting
to
add
something
;
hearing
something
new
;
listening
with
his
hand
up
.
But
she
heard
nothing
.
And
once
they
found
the
girl
who
did
the
room
reading
one
of
these
papers
in
fits
of
laughter
.
It
was
a
dreadful
pity
.
For
that
made
Septimus
cry
out
about
human
cruelty
--
how
they
tear
each
other
to
pieces
.
The
fallen
,
he
said
,
they
tear
to
pieces
.
"
Holmes
is
on
us
,
"
he
would
say
,
and
he
would
invent
stories
about
Holmes
;
Holmes
eating
porridge
;
Holmes
reading
Shakespeare
--
making
himself
roar
with
laughter
or
rage
,
for
Dr.
Holmes
seemed
to
stand
for
something
horrible
to
him
.
"
Human
nature
,
"
he
called
him
.
Then
there
were
the
visions
.
He
was
drowned
,
he
used
to
say
,
and
lying
on
a
cliff
with
the
gulls
screaming
over
him
.
He
would
look
over
the
edge
of
the
sofa
down
into
the
sea
.
Or
he
was
hearing
music
.
Really
it
was
only
a
barrel
organ
or
some
man
crying
in
the
street
.
But
"
Lovely
!
"
he
used
to
cry
,
and
the
tears
would
run
down
his
cheeks
,
which
was
to
her
the
most
dreadful
thing
of
all
,
to
see
a
man
like
Septimus
,
who
had
fought
,
who
was
brave
,
crying
.
And
he
would
lie
listening
until
suddenly
he
would
cry
that
he
was
falling
down
,
down
into
the
flames
!
Actually
she
would
look
for
flames
,
it
was
so
vivid
.
But
there
was
nothing
.
They
were
alone
in
the
room
.
It
was
a
dream
,
she
would
tell
him
and
so
quiet
him
at
last
,
but
sometimes
she
was
frightened
too
.
She
sighed
as
she
sat
sewing
.
Her
sigh
was
tender
and
enchanting
,
like
the
wind
outside
a
wood
in
the
evening
.
Now
she
put
down
her
scissors
;
now
she
turned
to
take
something
from
the
table
.
A
little
stir
,
a
little
crinkling
,
a
little
tapping
built
up
something
on
the
table
there
,
where
she
sat
sewing
.
Through
his
eyelashes
he
could
see
her
blurred
outline
;
her
little
black
body
;
her
face
and
hands
;
her
turning
movements
at
the
table
,
as
she
took
up
a
reel
,
or
looked
(
she
was
apt
to
lose
things
)
for
her
silk
.
She
was
making
a
hat
for
Mrs.
Filmer
's
married
daughter
,
whose
name
was
--
he
had
forgotten
her
name
.
"
What
is
the
name
of
Mrs.
Filmer
's
married
daughter
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Mrs.
Peters
,
"
said
Rezia
.
She
was
afraid
it
was
too
small
,
she
said
,
holding
it
before
her
.
Mrs.
Peters
was
a
big
woman
;
but
she
did
not
like
her
.
It
was
only
because
Mrs.
Filmer
had
been
so
good
to
them
.
"
She
gave
me
grapes
this
morning
,
"
she
said
--
that
Rezia
wanted
to
do
something
to
show
that
they
were
grateful
.
She
had
come
into
the
room
the
other
evening
and
found
Mrs.
Peters
,
who
thought
they
were
out
,
playing
the
gramophone
.
"
Was
it
true
?
"
he
asked
.
She
was
playing
the
gramophone
?
Yes
;
she
had
told
him
about
it
at
the
time
;
she
had
found
Mrs.
Peters
playing
the
gramophone
.
