Аня з Авонлеї
XII. A Jonah Day
Hiramused,underherveryeyes.
“Joseph,”saidAnnequietly,“bringthatparcelhere.”
Joe,startledandabashed,obeyed.Hewasafaturchinwhoalwaysblushedandstutteredwhenhewasfrightened.NeverdidanybodylookmoreguiltythanpoorJoeatthatmoment.
“Throwitintothefire,”saidAnne.
Joelookedveryblank.
“P...p...p...lease,m...m...miss,”hebegan.
“DoasItellyou,Joseph,withoutanywordsaboutit.”
“B...b...butm...m...miss...th...th...they’re...”gaspedJoeindesperation.
“Joseph,areyougoingtoobeymeorareyouNOT?”saidAnne.
Abolderandmoreself-possessedladthanJoeSloanewouldhavebeenoverawedbyhertoneandthedangerousflashofhereyes.ThiswasanewAnnewhomnoneofherpupilshadeverseenbefore.Joe,withanagonizedglanceatSt.Clair,wenttothestove,openedthebig,squarefrontdoor,andthrewtheblueandwhiteparcelin,beforeSt.Clair,whohadsprungtohisfeet,couldutteraword.Thenhedodgedbackjustintime.
ForafewmomentstheterrifiedoccupantsofAvonleaschooldidnotknowwhetheritwasanearthquakeoravolcanicexplosionthathadoccurred.TheinnocentlookingparcelwhichAnnehadrashlysupposedtocontainMrs.Hiram’snutcakesreallyheldanassortmentoffirecrackersandpinwheelsforwhichWarrenSloanehadsenttotownbySt.ClairDonnell’sfatherthedaybefore,intendingtohaveabirthdaycelebrationthatevening.
