Аня з острова Принца Едуарда

An Interlude

           Itmakesonethinkofadressofsunshine.Ialwayswantedayellowsilkdress,butfirstmymotherandthenmyhusbandwouldn’thearofit.TheveryfirstthingI’mgoingtodowhenIgettoheavenistogetayellowsilkdress.”

           AmidAnne’spealoflaughterPhilcamedownstairs,trailingcloudsofglory,andsurveyedherselfinthelongovalmirroronthewall.

           “Aflatteringlookingglassisapromoterofamiability,”shesaid.“Theoneinmyroomdoescertainlymakemegreen.DoIlookprettynice,Anne?”

           “Doyoureallyknowhowprettyyouare,Phil?”askedAnne,inhonestadmiration.

           “OfcourseIdo.Whatarelookingglassesandmenfor?Thatwasn’twhatImeant.Areallmyendstuckedin?Ismyskirtstraight?Andwouldthisroselookbetterlowerdown?I’mafraidit’stoohighitwillmakemelooklop-sided.ButIhatethingsticklingmyears.”

           “Everythingisjustright,andthatsouthwestdimpleofyoursislovely.”

           “Anne,there’sonethinginparticularIlikeaboutyouyou’resoungrudging.Thereisn’taparticleofenvyinyou.”

           “Whyshouldshebeenvious?”demandedAuntJamesina.“She’snotquiteasgoodlookingasyou,maybe,butshe’sgotafarhandsomernose.”

           “Iknowit,”concededPhil.

           “Mynosealwayshasbeenagreatcomforttome,”confessedAnne.

           “AndIlovethewayyourhairgrowsonyourforehead,Anne.Andthatoneweecurl,alwayslookingasifitweregoingtodrop,butneverdropping,isdelicious.Butasfornoses,mineisadreadfulworrytome.IknowbythetimeI’mfortyitwillbeByrney.

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