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.
