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- Джеймс Барри
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- Белая птичка
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- Стр. 94/132
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"
Is
there
not
?
"
he
again
asked
politely
.
"
Are
you
sure
there
's
not
?
"
he
added
.
"
What
can
it
be
,
David
?
"
"
I
do
n't
take
up
very
much
room
,
"
the
far-away
voice
said
.
"
Why
,
David
,
"
said
I
,
sitting
up
,
"
do
you
want
to
come
into
my
bed
?
"
"
Mother
said
I
was
n't
to
want
it
unless
you
wanted
it
first
,
"
he
squeaked
.
"
It
is
what
I
have
been
wanting
all
the
time
,
"
said
I
,
and
then
without
more
ado
the
little
white
figure
rose
and
flung
itself
at
me
.
For
the
rest
of
the
night
he
lay
on
me
and
across
me
,
and
sometimes
his
feet
were
at
the
bottom
of
the
bed
and
sometimes
on
the
pillow
,
but
he
always
retained
possession
of
my
finger
,
and
occasionally
he
woke
me
to
say
that
he
was
sleeping
with
me
.
I
had
not
a
good
night
.
I
lay
thinking
.
Of
this
little
boy
,
who
,
in
the
midst
of
his
play
while
I
undressed
him
,
had
suddenly
buried
his
head
on
my
knees
.
Of
the
woman
who
had
been
for
him
who
could
be
sufficiently
daring
.
Of
David
's
dripping
little
form
in
the
bath
,
and
how
when
I
essayed
to
catch
him
he
had
slipped
from
my
arms
like
a
trout
Of
how
I
had
stood
by
the
open
door
listening
to
his
sweet
breathing
,
had
stood
so
long
that
I
forgot
his
name
and
called
him
Timothy
.
