Повелитель мух
The Shell and the Glasses
"Myasthma—"
Theresponsewasmechanical.
"Suckstoyourass-mar."
"IfIpulllogs,Igetmyasthmabad.IwishIdidn’t,Ralph,butthereitis."
Thethreeboyswentintotheforestandfetchedarmfulsofrottenwood.Oncemorethesmokerose,yellowandthick.
"Let’sgetsomethingtoeat."
Togethertheywenttothefruittrees,carryingtheirspears,sayinglittle,cramminginhaste.Whentheycameoutoftheforestagainthesunwassettingandonlyembersglowedinthefire,andtherewasnosmoke.
"Ican’tcarryanymorewood,"saidEric."I’mtired."
Ralphclearedhisthroat.
"Wekeptthefiregoingupthere."
"Upthereitwassmall.Butthishasgottobeabigone."
Ralphcarriedafragmenttothefireandwatchedthesmokethatdriftedintothedusk.
"We’vegottokeepitgoing."
Ericflunghimselfdown.
"I’mtootired.Andwhat’sthegood?"
