Веснушки

Chapter I

           

           “Freckles!”hesaid.

           “Goodenoughforeveryday,”laughedMcLean,“butIscarcelycanput’Freckles’onthecompany’sbooks.Tellmeyourname.”

           “Ihaven’tanyname,”repliedtheboy.

           “Idon’tunderstand,”saidMcLean.

           “Iwasthinkingfromthevoiceandthefaceofyouthatyouwouldn’t,”saidFrecklesslowly.“I’vespentmoretimeonitthanIeverdidonanythingelseinallmelife,andIdon’tunderstand.Doesitseemtoyouthatanyonewouldtakeanewbornbabyandrowoverit,untilitwasbruisedblack,cutoffitshand,andleaveitoutinabitternightonthestepsofacharityhome,tothecareofstrangers?That’swhatsomebodydidtome.”

           McLeanstaredaghast.Hehadnoreplyready,andpresentlyinalowvoicehesuggested:“Andafter?”

           “TheHomepeopletookmein,andIwastherethefulllegalageandseveralyearsover.ForthemostpartwewerealotoflittleIrishmentogether.Theycouldalwaysfindhomesfortheotherchildren,butnobodywouldeverbewantingmeonaccountofmearm.”

           “Weretheykindtoyou?”McLeanregrettedthequestiontheminuteitwasasked.

           “Idon’tknow,”answeredFreckles.Thereplysoundedsohopeless,eventohisownears,thathehastenedtoqualifyitbyadding:“Yousee,it’slikethis,sir.Kindnessesthatpeoplearepaidtolayoffinjoblotsandthatbelongequallytoseveralhundredothers,ain’tgoingtobesoakingintoanyonefellowsomuch.”

           “Goon,”saidMcLean,noddingcomprehendingly.

           “There’snothingworththetakingofyourtimetotell,”repliedFreckles.

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