Діти залізниці
The End.
Mother,willyouletmeofflessonsto-day?IfeelasifIwantedtobequitealonebymyself."
"Yes,ofcourseI’llletyouoff,"saidMother;"but—"
Bobbiedroppedherslate.Itcrackedjustacrossthelittlegreenmarkthatissousefulfordrawingpatternsround,anditwasneverthesameslateagain.Withoutwaitingtopickitupshebolted.Mothercaughtherinthehallfeelingblindlyamongthewaterproofsandumbrellasforhergardenhat.
"Whatisit,mysweetheart?"saidMother."Youdon’tfeelill,doyou?"
"IDON’Tknow,"Bobbieanswered,alittlebreathlessly,"butIwanttobebymyselfandseeifmyheadreallyISallsillyandmyinsideallsquirmy-twisty."
"Hadn’tyoubetterliedown?"Mothersaid,strokingherhairbackfromherforehead.
"I’dbemorealiveinthegarden,Ithink,"saidBobbie.
Butshecouldnotstayinthegarden.Thehollyhocksandtheastersandthelaterosesallseemedtobewaitingforsomethingtohappen.Itwasoneofthosestill,shinyautumndays,wheneverythingdoesseemtobewaiting.
Bobbiecouldnotwait.
"I’llgodowntothestation,"shesaid,"andtalktoPerksandaskaboutthesignalman’slittleboy."
Soshewentdown.
