Біла пташка

The Dedication

           

           “Morethantwentyyearsago,”shesaidwithasofthuskinessinhervoice,andatremorandasweetness,asifshedidnotknowthatintwentyyearsalllovestoriesaregrownmouldy.

           OnmyhonourasasoldierthisexplanationofmyearlysolicitudeforMarywasonethathadneverstruckme,butthemoreIpondereditnow.Iraisedherhandandtoucheditwithmylips,aswewhimsicaloldfellowsdowhensomegraciousgirlmakesustohearthekeyinthelockoflongago.“Why,ma’am,”Isaid,“itisaprettynotion,andtheremaybesomethinginit.Letusleaveitatthat.”

           Buttherewasstillthataccurseddedication,lying,youremember,beneaththeblotting-pad.Ihadnolongeranydesiretocrushherwithit.Iwishedthatshehadsucceededinwritingthebookonwhichherlongingshadbeensoset.

           “Ifonlyyouhadbeenlessambitious,”Isaid,muchtroubledthatsheshouldbedisappointedinherheart’sdesire.

           “Iwantedallthedeardeliciousthings,”sheadmittedcontritely.

           “Itwasunreasonable,”Isaideagerly,appealingtoherintellect.“Especiallythislastthing.”

           “Yes,”sheagreedfrankly,“Iknow.”Andthentomyamazementsheaddedtriumphantly,“ButIgotit.”

           Isupposemylookadmonishedher,forshecontinuedapologeticallybutstillasifshereallythoughthershadbeenaromanticcareer,“IknowIhavenotdeservedit,butIgotit.”

           “Oh,ma’am,”Icriedreproachfully,“reflect.Youhavenotgotthegreatthing.

Налаштування
Фон сторінки
Розмір шрифту
Міжрядковий інтервал
Фразові дієслова
Показати / Приховати меню
Шрифт
Roboto Lora
Уведомления
Сторінка 237 з 241