Діти залізниці
The End.
Bobbiewasleftstandingalone,theStationCatwatchingherfromunderthebenchwithfriendlygoldeneyes.
Ofcourseyouknowalreadyexactlywhatwasgoingtohappen.Bobbiewasnotsoclever.Shehadthevague,confused,expectantfeelingthatcomestoone’sheartindreams.WhatherheartexpectedIcan’ttell—perhapstheverythingthatyouandIknowwasgoingtohappen—buthermindexpectednothing;itwasalmostblank,andfeltnothingbuttirednessandstupidnessandanemptyfeeling,likeyourbodyhaswhenyouhavebeenalongwalkanditisveryfarindeedpastyourproperdinner-time.
Onlythreepeoplegotoutofthe11.54.Thefirstwasacountrymanwithtwobasketyboxesfulloflivechickenswhostucktheirrussetheadsoutanxiouslythroughthewickerbars;thesecondwasMissPeckitt,thegrocer’swife’scousin,withatinboxandthreebrown-paperparcels;andthethird—
"Oh!myDaddy,myDaddy!"Thatscreamwentlikeaknifeintotheheartofeveryoneinthetrain,andpeopleputtheirheadsoutofthewindowstoseeatallpalemanwithlipssetinathincloseline,andalittlegirlclingingtohimwitharmsandlegs,whilehisarmswenttightlyroundher.
***
"Iknewsomethingwonderfulwasgoingtohappen,"saidBobbie,astheywentuptheroad,"butIdidn’tthinkitwasgoingtobethis.Oh,myDaddy,myDaddy!"
"Thendidn’tMothergetmyletter?"Fatherasked.
