Человек с рассечённой губой. Книга для чтения на английском языке. Артур Конан Дойл

      В данной книге приводится текст рассказа А.К. Дойла «Человек с рассечённой губой» на английском языке с транскрипцией. Текст рассказа разбит на небольшие фрагменты. Для каждого фрагмента подготовлена транскрипция, оформленная в виде иллюстрации с изображением транскрипции текста фрагмента. Фрагменты пронумерованы порядковыми номерами (001, 002,…,245). Для каждого фрагмента создан видеоролик – презентация данного фрагмента. Адрес видеоролика приведён после номера фрагмента. С видеороликами можно работать как в режиме on-line, так и в режиме off-line, предварительно скачав их. Адрес папки с видеороликами:

      https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/16tplzAYp5nT_rfHqN1D9RXfE26ztaA_m?usp=sharing

      Соответствующий этому адресу QR-код:

      Имя видеоролика совпадает с номером соответствующего фрагмента.

      Таким образом, чтение рассказа производится с «подсказками» в виде транскрипции, просмотром и прослушиванием видеороликов.

      The Man With The Twisted Lip

      001. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1zGLg5N6BmhaU_hbnLI4JU8TesVL4XicH/view?usp=sharing

      Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal of the Theological College of St. George’s, was much addicted to opium.

      002. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ejQNHfN_VAD1KTUhzN2QHbfOuCAjYohV/view?usp=sharing

      The habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some foolish freak when he was at college; for having read De Quincey’s description of his dreams and sensations, he had drenched his tobacco with laudanum in an attempt to produce the same effects.

      003. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lnJfvqOYQtbJO-PJE5rcOIb9V5JUhuof/view?usp=sharing

      He found, as so many more have done, that the practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many years he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object of mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives.

      004. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1VzyZ70HYnEcBITFr4Iw4EobQuYqzCitN/view?usp=sharing

      I can see him now, with yellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble man.

      005. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1LLPfKv8GZy1CPGblwk32j2gs1RtA9KsS/view?usp=sharing

      One night—it was in June, ’89—there came a ring to my bell, about the hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the clock. I sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work down in her lap and made a little face of disappointment.

      “A patient!” said she. “You’ll have to go out.”

      006. https://drive.google.com/file/d/17V4SiFI8MbgUW9Uyo7MnKJSYY3bMnpUF/view?usp=sharing

      I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day.

      We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in some dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room.

      007. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1VasKHxUJqxKiZfeO4pEXUni14thnwAYr/view?usp=sharing

      “You will excuse my calling so late,” she began, and then, suddenly losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms about my wife’s neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. “Oh, I’m in such trouble!” she cried; “I do so want a little help.”

      008. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1PTcMqOdPLD2gzXzVOzydnQjWesavumZG/view?usp=sharing

      “Why,” said my wife, pulling up her veil, “it is Kate Whitney. How you startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when you came in.”

      009.

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