цитата PPaveKK

Живу во Владивостоке. Вчера вечером столкнулся с проблемой на Озоне. На 99% книг в избранном (разных продавцов) появилась надпись "нет в наличии". Хотя ещё утром всё было в наличии. Народ в сети пишет, что с товарами из Китая проблемы, но книги-то из РФ. Сегодня всё ещё "нет в наличии". Кто-нибудь знает в чем дело?

цитата

Zangezi Германская мифология недавно вышла в трёх томах энциклопедического размера. Чем отличается это издание в одном томе? Что-то сокращено?

цитата

The local train, with its three coaches, pulled up at Newleigh Station at half-past four, and Nicholas Cabot alighted. It was a Friday afternoon in early June. The day was gloriously fine, without a cloud in the sky, but with a crisp breeze tempering the otherwise overpowering sun. He sniffed the air, which was particularly fresh and sweet to London nostrils, and it was more by force of habit than any feeling of unpleasantness that, in gazing around him at the same time, his mouth took on a half-contemptuous expression. There was little to see, for the platform was nearly deserted; no one else appeared to have got down. He was a pale, lean, shortish, inconspicuous young fellow, in the middle twenties, with rather delicate upper features, but with strong-looking eyes, a determined jaw, and the full, thrust-out lips belonging to an audacious mind, as distinguished from an audacious temperament. He wore grey flannels, with a new white straw hat, of the straight type affected by the city dweller. As he was in the act of making his way to the rear van to see after his trunk, which a porter was already tumbling roughly on to the platform, another man, dressed in a soiled white chauffeur’s coat and uniform cap, came up to him and saluted.
“For Mereway, sir?”
“Mr. Sturt’s house—yes.”
“Car waiting, sir. That all your luggage?”
“That trunk and this bag. Has a packing-case arrived for me, do you know?”
“Haven’t seen aught of it, sir.”
The porter lending a hand, the trunk was installed in the somewhat dirty and battered four-seater which stood waiting in the station yard. Nicholas gave up his ticket and followed them out. He thought it strange that none of the family should be here to meet him, but was relieved that he should not be called upon to talk platitudes with unknown people on his way up to the house. He guessed that, Sturt himself being an ex-actor, they were rather on the Bohemian side. The conjecture was supported by the appearance of the car and its driver. The latter had great hands, like horn, a bowed back, and was getting on in years; he evidently combined the care of the garden with his other occupation.