Аня з острова Принца Едуарда

Home Again

           AndIwouldn’tgoaboutmuchwithMr.Harrison’shiredboyifIwereyou.”

           “Hecanmakebullywar-whoops,”saidDavyalittleregretfully.

           “Butyoudon’twantyourmindfilledwithbadwords,doyou,Davywordsthatwillpoisonitanddriveoutallthatisgoodandmanly?”

           “No,”saidDavy,owl-eyedwithintrospection.

           “Thendon’tgowiththosepeoplewhousethem.Andnowdoyoufeelasifyoucouldsayyourprayers,Davy?”

           “Oh,yes,”saidDavy,eagerlywrigglingdownonhisknees,“Icansaythemnowallright.Iain’tscarednowtosay‘ifIshoulddiebeforeIwake,’likeIwaswhenIwaswantingtosaythatword.”

           ProbablyAnneandDianadidemptyouttheirsoulstoeachotherthatnight,butnorecordoftheirconfidenceshasbeenpreserved.Theybothlookedasfreshandbright-eyedatbreakfastasonlyyouthcanlookafterunlawfulhoursofrevelryandconfession.Therehadbeennosnowuptothistime,butasDianacrossedtheoldlogbridgeonherhomewardwaythewhiteflakeswerebeginningtoflutterdownoverthefieldsandwoods,russetandgrayintheirdreamlesssleep.Soonthefar-awayslopesandhillsweredimandwraith-likethroughtheirgauzyscarfing,asifpaleautumnhadflungamistybridalveiloverherhairandwaswaitingforherwintrybridegroom.SotheyhadawhiteChristmasafterall,andaverypleasantdayitwas.IntheforenoonlettersandgiftscamefromMissLavendarandPaul;AnneopenedtheminthecheerfulGreenGableskitchen,whichwasfilledwithwhatDavy,sniffinginecstasy,called“prettysmells.”

           “MissLavendarandMr.

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