Аня з Авонлеї
XX. The Way It Often Happens
Afewdayspreviouslyshehadfoundarecipeforafrecklelotioninamagazineand,astheingredientswerewithinherreach,shestraightwaycompoundedit,muchtothedisgustofMarilla,whothoughtthatifProvidencehadplacedfrecklesonyournoseitwasyourboundendutytoleavethemthere.
Annescurrieddowntothepantry,which,alwaysdimfromthebigwillowgrowingclosetothewindow,wasnowalmostdarkbyreasonoftheshadedrawntoexcludeflies.Annecaughtthebottlecontainingthelotionfromtheshelfandcopiouslyanointedhernosetherewithbymeansofalittlespongesacredtothepurpose.Thisimportantdutydone,shereturnedtoherwork.AnyonewhohasevershiftedfeathersfromoneticktoanotherwillnotneedtobetoldthatwhenAnnefinishedshewasasighttobehold.Herdresswaswhitewithdownandfluff,andherfronthair,escapingfromunderthehandkerchief,wasadornedwithaveritablehalooffeathers.Atthisauspiciousmomentaknocksoundedatthekitchendoor.
“ThatmustbeMr.Shearer,”thoughtAnne.“I’minadreadfulmessbutI’llhavetorundownasIam,forhe’salwaysinahurry.”
DownflewAnnetothekitchendoor.Ifeveracharitablefloordidopentoswallowupamiserable,befeathereddamseltheGreenGablesporchfloorshouldpromptlyhaveengulfedAnneatthatmoment.
