Аня із Зелених Мезонінів

Chapter XIX. A Concert a Catastrophe and a Confession

           I’vebeensousedinmyearlydaystohavingpeoplecrossatmethatIcanendureitmuchbetterthanDianacan.”

           Muchofthesnaphadgoneoutoftheoldlady’seyesbythistimeandwasreplacedbyatwinkleofamusedinterest.Butshestillsaidseverely:

           “Idon’tthinkitisanyexcuseforyouthatyouwereonlyinfun.LittlegirlsneverindulgedinthatkindoffunwhenIwasyoung.Youdon’tknowwhatitistobeawakenedoutofasoundsleep,afteralongandarduousjourney,bytwogreatgirlscomingbouncedownonyou.”

           “Idon’tknow,butIcanimagine,”saidAnneeagerly.“I’msureitmusthavebeenverydisturbing.Butthen,thereisoursideofittoo.Haveyouanyimagination,MissBarry?Ifyouhave,justputyourselfinourplace.Wedidn’tknowtherewasanybodyinthatbedandyounearlyscaredustodeath.Itwassimplyawfulthewaywefelt.Andthenwecouldn’tsleepinthespareroomafterbeingpromised.Isupposeyouareusedtosleepinginsparerooms.Butjustimaginewhatyouwouldfeellikeifyouwerealittleorphangirlwhohadneverhadsuchanhonor.”

           Allthesnaphadgonebythistime.MissBarryactuallylaughed—asoundwhichcausedDiana,waitinginspeechlessanxietyinthekitchenoutside,togiveagreatgaspofrelief.

           “I’mafraidmyimaginationisalittlerusty—it’ssolongsinceIusedit,”shesaid.“Idaresayyourclaimtosympathyisjustasstrongasmine.Italldependsonthewaywelookatit.Sitdownhereandtellmeaboutyourself.”

           “IamverysorryIcan’t,”saidAnnefirmly.

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