Таємничий сад
IX. The Strangest House Anyone Ever Lived In
Therobin,whohadflowntohistreetop,wasstillasalltherest.Hedidnotevenflutterhiswings;hesatwithoutstirring,andlookedatMary.
“Nowonderitisstill,”shewhisperedagain.“Iamthefirstpersonwhohasspokeninherefortenyears.”
Shemovedawayfromthedoor,steppingassoftlyasifshewereafraidofawakeningsomeone.Shewasgladthattherewasgrassunderherfeetandthatherstepsmadenosounds.Shewalkedunderoneofthefairy-likegrayarchesbetweenthetreesandlookedupatthespraysandtendrilswhichformedthem.
“Iwonderiftheyareallquitedead,”shesaid.“Isitallaquitedeadgarden?Iwishitwasn’t.”
IfshehadbeenBenWeatherstaffshecouldhavetoldwhetherthewoodwasalivebylookingatit,butshecouldonlyseethattherewereonlygrayorbrownspraysandbranchesandnoneshowedanysignsofevenatinyleaf-budanywhere.
Butshewasinsidethewonderfulgardenandshecouldcomethroughthedoorundertheivyanytimeandshefeltasifshehadfoundaworldallherown.
ThesunwasshininginsidethefourwallsandthehigharchofblueskyoverthisparticularpieceofMisselthwaiteseemedevenmorebrilliantandsoftthanitwasoverthemoor.Therobinflewdownfromhistree-topandhoppedaboutorflewafterherfromonebushtoanother.Hechirpedagooddealandhadaverybusyair,asifhewereshowingherthings.Everythingwasstrangeandsilentandsheseemedtobehundredsofmilesawayfromanyone,butsomehowshedidnotfeellonelyatall.
