I don't read newspapers," Persikov pouted.
But why not, Professor?" Alfred asked gently.
Because they write such rubbish," Persikov replied, without thinking.
But surely not, Professor?" Bronsky whispered softly, unfolding the page.
What's the matter?" asked Persikov, even rising to his feet.
Bronsky's eyes were flashing now.
He pointed a sharp painted finger at an incredibly large headline which ran right across the whole page: "Chicken plague in the Republic". "What?" asked Persikov, pushing his spectacles onto his forehead... CHAPTER VI.
Moscow. June 1928 The city shone, the lights danced, going out and blazing on.
In Theatre Square the white lamps of buses mingled with the green lights of trams; above the former Muir and Merilees, its tenth floor added later, skipped a multi-coloured electrical woman, tossing out letter by letter the multicoloured words: "Workers' Credit". A crowd thronged and murmured in the small garden opposite the Bolshoi Theatre, where a multicoloured fountain played at night.
Каталог
Карта сайта
Мы платим за
информацию!!! | 
