-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Джеймс Барри
-
- Белая птичка
-
- Стр. 24/132
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
So
we
bought
the
horse
in
the
Lowther
Arcade
,
Porthos
,
who
thought
it
was
for
him
,
looking
proud
but
uneasy
,
and
it
was
sent
to
the
bandbox
house
anonymously
.
About
a
week
afterward
I
had
the
ill-luck
to
meet
Mary
's
husband
in
Kensington
,
so
I
asked
him
what
he
had
called
his
little
girl
.
"
It
is
a
boy
,
"
he
replied
,
with
intolerable
good-humour
,
"
we
call
him
David
.
"
And
then
with
a
singular
lack
of
taste
he
wanted
the
name
of
my
boy
.
I
flicked
my
glove
.
"
Timothy
,
"
said
I.
I
saw
a
suppressed
smile
on
his
face
,
and
said
hotly
that
Timothy
was
as
good
a
name
as
David
.
"
I
like
it
,
"
he
assured
me
,
and
expressed
a
hope
that
they
would
become
friends
.
I
boiled
to
say
that
I
really
could
not
allow
Timothy
to
mix
with
boys
of
the
David
class
,
but
I
refrained
,
and
listened
coldly
while
he
told
me
what
David
did
when
you
said
his
toes
were
pigs
going
to
market
or
returning
from
it
,
I
forget
which
.
He
also
boasted
of
David
's
weight
(
a
subject
about
which
we
are
uncommonly
touchy
at
the
club
)
,
as
if
children
were
for
throwing
forth
for
a
wager
.
But
no
more
about
Timothy
.
Gradually
this
vexed
me
.
I
felt
what
a
forlorn
little
chap
Timothy
was
,
with
no
one
to
say
a
word
for
him
,
and
I
became
his
champion
and
hinted
something
about
teething
,
but
withdrew
it
when
it
seemed
too
surprising
,
and
tried
to
get
on
to
safer
ground
,
such
as
bibs
and
general
intelligence
,
but
the
painter
fellow
was
so
willing
to
let
me
have
my
say
,
and
knew
so
much
more
about
babies
than
is
fitting
for
men
to
know
,
that
I
paled
before
him
and
wondered
why
the
deuce
he
was
listening
to
me
so
attentively
.
You
may
remember
a
story
he
had
told
me
about
some
anonymous
friend
.
"
His
latest
,
"
said
he
now
,
"
is
to
send
David
a
rocking-horse
!
"
I
must
say
I
could
see
no
reason
for
his
mirth
.
"
Picture
it
,
"
said
he
,
"
a
rocking-horse
for
a
child
not
three
months
old
!
"
I
was
about
to
say
fiercely
:
"
The
stirrups
are
adjustable
,
"
but
thought
it
best
to
laugh
with
him
.
But
I
was
pained
to
hear
that
Mary
had
laughed
,
though
heaven
knows
I
have
often
laughed
at
her
.
"
But
women
are
odd
,
"
he
said
unexpectedly
,
and
explained
.
It
appears
that
in
the
middle
of
her
merriment
Mary
had
become
grave
and
said
to
him
quite
haughtily
,
"
I
see
nothing
to
laugh
at
.
"
Then
she
had
kissed
the
horse
solemnly
on
the
nose
and
said
,
"
I
wish
he
was
here
to
see
me
do
it
.
"
There
are
moments
when
one
can
not
help
feeling
a
drawing
to
Mary
.
