Біла пташка
The Dedication
”Isawhercountingthegreatthingsinhermind,herwondroushusbandandhisobscuresuccess,David,Barbara,andtheothertriflingcontentsofherjewel-box.
“IthinkIhave,”saidshe.
“Come,madam,”Icriedalittlenettled,“youknowthatthereislackingtheonethingyoucravedformostofall.”
WillyoubelievemethatIhadtotellherwhatitwas?AndwhenIhadtoldhersheexclaimedwithextraordinarycallousness,“Thebook?Ihadforgottenallaboutthebook!”Andthenafterreflectionsheadded,“Pooh!”HadshenotaddedPoohImighthavesparedher,butasitwasIraisedtheblotting-padratherhaughtilyandpresentedherwiththesheetbeneathit.
“Whatisthis?”sheasked.
“Ma’am,”saidI,swelling,“itisaDedication,”andIwalkedmajesticallytothewindow.
ThereisnodoubtthatpresentlyIheardanunexpectedsound.Yetifindeedithadbeenalaughsheclippeditshort,forinalmostthesamemomentshewaslookinglarge-eyedatmeandtappingmysleeveimpulsivelywithherfingers,justasDaviddoeswhenhesuddenlylikesyou.
“Howcharacteristicofyou,”shesaidatthewindow.
“Characteristic,”Iechoeduneasily.“Ha!”
“Andhowkind.”
“Didyousaykind,ma’am?”
“ButitisIwhohavethesubstanceandyouwhohavetheshadow,asyouknowverywell,”saidshe.
Yes,Ihadalwaysknownthatthiswastheoneflawinmydedication,buthowcouldIhaveexpectedhertohavethewittoseeit?Iwasverydepressed.
“Andthereisanothermistake,”saidshe.
“Excuseme,ma’am,butthatistheonlyone.
