Повернення на батьківщину

VIII. Rain, Darkness, and Anxious Wanderers

           “AsifIcouldhurtanythingbelongingtoyou!”

           “Ionlymeantaccidentally,”saidThomasin.

           “Thebabyisdryenough,butyouareprettywet,”saidthereddlemanwhen,inclosingthedoorofhiscarttopadlockit,henoticedontheflooraringofwaterdropswherehercloakhadhungfromher.

           Thomasinfollowedhimashewoundrightandlefttoavoidthelargerbushes,stoppingoccasionallyandcoveringthelantern,whilehelookedoverhisshouldertogainsomeideaofthepositionofRainbarrowabovethem,whichitwasnecessarytokeepdirectlybehindtheirbackstopreserveapropercourse.

           “Youaresuretheraindoesnotfalluponbaby?”

           “Quitesure.MayIaskhowoldheis,ma’am?”

           “He!”saidThomasinreproachfully.“Anybodycanseebetterthanthatinamoment.Sheisnearlytwomonthsold.Howfarisitnowtotheinn?”

           “Alittleoveraquarterofamile.”

           “Willyouwalkalittlefaster?”

           “Iwasafraidyoucouldnotkeepup.”

           “Iamveryanxioustogetthere.Ah,thereisalightfromthewindow!”

           “’Tisnotfromthewindow.That’sagig-lamp,tothebestofmybelief.”

           “O!”saidThomasinindespair.“IwishIhadbeentheresooner—givemethebaby,Diggory—youcangobacknow.”

           “Imustgoalltheway,”saidVenn.“Thereisaquagbetweenusandthatlight,andyouwillwalkintoituptoyourneckunlessItakeyouround.”

           “Butthelightisattheinn,andthereisnoquaginfrontofthat.”

           “No,thelightisbelowtheinnsometwoorthreehundredyards.”

           “Nevermind,”saidThomasinhurriedly

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