Аня с острова Принца Эдуарда

Garlands of Autumn

           Whatapitywecouldn’thavecaughtthemomentoftransformation.Butsuchmomentsneverarecaught,Isuppose.”

           “Let’sgobackaroundthemarshandhomebywayofLover’sLane.Doyoufeelasdisgruntlednowaswhenyoustartedout,Anne?”

           “NotI.Thoseappleshavebeenasmannatoahungrysoul.IfeelthatIshallloveRedmondandhaveasplendidfouryearsthere.”

           “Andafterthosefouryearswhat?”

           “Oh,there’sanotherbendintheroadattheirend,”answeredAnnelightly.“I’venoideawhatmaybearounditIdon’twanttohave.It’snicernottoknow.”

           Lover’sLanewasadearplacethatnight,stillandmysteriouslydiminthepaleradianceofthemoonlight.Theyloiteredthroughitinapleasantchummysilence,neithercaringtotalk.

           “IfGilbertwerealwaysashehasbeenthiseveninghowniceandsimpleeverythingwouldbe,”reflectedAnne.

           GilbertwaslookingatAnne,asshewalkedalong.Inherlightdress,withherslenderdelicacy,shemadehimthinkofawhiteiris.

           “IwonderifIcanevermakehercareforme,”hethought,withapangofself-distrust.

           

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