Біла пташка
Barbara
”
“Theyarenotsowellmadeastheboxes,”hereplied.
ThusIhavereasontowishilltoMary’sworkofimagination,asIpresumedittobe,andIsaidtohimwitheasybrutality,“Tellherabouttheboxes,David,andthatnoonecanbeginabookuntiltheyareallfull.Thatwillfrightenher.”
Soonthereafterheannouncedtomethatshehadgotabox.
“Onebox!”Isaidwithasneer.
“Shemadeitherself,”retortedDavidhotly.
Igotlittlerealinformationfromhimaboutthework,partlybecauseDavidloseshisfootingwhenhedescendstothepractical,andperhapsstillmorebecausehefoundmeunsympathetic.Butwhenheblurtedoutthetitle,“TheLittleWhiteBird,”Iwaslikeonewhohadreadthebooktoitslastpage.IknewatoncethatthewhitebirdwasthelittledaughterMarywouldfainhavehad.SomehowIhadalwaysknownthatshewouldliketohavealittledaughter,shewasthatkindofwoman,andsolongasshehadthemodestytoseethatshecouldnothaveone,Isympathisedwithherdeeply,whateverImayhavesaidaboutherbooktoDavid.
InthosedaysMaryhadtheloveliestideasforhersadlittlebook,andtheycametohermostlyinthemorningwhenshewasonlythree-partsawake,butasshesteppedoutofbedtheyallflewawaylikestartledbirds.IgatheredfromDavidthatthisdepressedherexceedingly.
Oh,Mary,yourthoughtsaremuchtooprettyandholytoshowthemselvestoanyonebutyourself.Theshythingsarehidingwithinyou.Iftheycouldcomeintotheopentheywouldnotbeabook,theywouldbelittleBarbara.
ButthatwasnotthemessageIsenther.
