Таємничий сад
XXVI. “It’s Mother!”
PerhapsitmeansjustwhatImeanwhenIwanttoshoutoutthatIamthankfultotheMagic.”Hestoppedandthoughtinapuzzledway.“Perhapstheyareboththesamething.Howcanweknowtheexactnamesofeverything?Singitagain,Dickon.Letustry,Mary.Iwanttosingit,too.It’smysong.Howdoesitbegin?‘PraiseGodfromwhomallblessingsflow’?”
Andtheysangitagain,andMaryandColinliftedtheirvoicesasmusicallyastheycouldandDickon’sswelledquiteloudandbeautiful—andatthesecondlineBenWeatherstaffraspinglyclearedhisthroatandatthethirdlinehejoinedinwithsuchvigorthatitseemedalmostsavageandwhenthe“Amen”cametoanendMaryobservedthattheverysamethinghadhappenedtohimwhichhadhappenedwhenhefoundoutthatColinwasnotacripple—hischinwastwitchingandhewasstaringandwinkingandhisleatheryoldcheekswerewet.
“Ineverseednosenseinth’Doxologyafore,”hesaidhoarsely,“butImaychangemymindi’time.Ishouldsaytha’dgoneupfivepoundthisweekMesterColin—fiveon’em!”
Colinwaslookingacrossthegardenatsomethingattractinghisattentionandhisexpressionhadbecomeastartledone.
“Whoiscominginhere?”hesaidquickly.“Whoisit?”
Thedoorintheiviedwallhadbeenpushedgentlyopenandawomanhadentered.Shehadcomeinwiththelastlineoftheirsongandshehadstoodstilllisteningandlookingatthem.
