Пітер Пен у Кенсінгтонському Саді
The Little house
AtthisbittersightMaimiestoppedblankly,asifallherlapfulofdarlingtreasuresweresuddenlyspilled,andthenforverydisdainshecouldnotsob;inaswellofprotestagainstallpulingcowardssherantoSt.Govor’sWellandhidinTony’sstead.
WhentheayahreachedthegateandsawTonyfarinfrontshethoughtherotherchargewaswithhimandpassedout.TwilightcreptovertheGardens,andhundredsofpeoplepassedout,includingthelastone,whoalwayshastorunforit,butMaimiesawthemnot.Shehadshuthereyestightandgluedthemwithpassionatetears.Whensheopenedthemsomethingverycoldranupherlegsandupherarmsanddroppedintoherheart.ItwasthestillnessoftheGardens.Thensheheardclang,thenfromanotherpartclang,thenclang,clangfaraway.ItwastheClosingoftheGates.
ImmediatelythelastclanghaddiedawayMaimiedistinctlyheardavoicesay,’Sothat’sallright.’Ithadawoodensoundandseemedtocomefromabove,andshelookedupintimetoseeanelm-treestretchingoutitsarmsandyawning.
Shewasabouttosay,’Ineverknewyoucouldspeak!’whenametallicvoicethatseemedtocomefromtheladleatthewellremarkedtotheelm,’Isupposeitisabitcoldishupthere?’andtheelmreplied,’Notparticularly,butyoudogetnumbstandingsolongononeleg,’andheflappedhisarmsvigorouslyjustasthecab-mendobeforetheydriveoff.Maimiewasquitesurprisedtoseethatanumberofothertalltreesweredoingthesamesortofthing,andshestoleawaytotheBabyWalkandcrouchedobservantlyunderaMinorcahollywhichshruggeditsshouldersbutdidnotseemtomindher.
