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- Фрэнсис Бёрнетт
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- Белые люди
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- Стр. 14/45
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“
I
wish
I
had
paid
more
attention
to
the
little
creature
,
”
he
said
,
very
gently
.
“
Did
it
cry
?
”
“
No
,
”
I
answered
.
“
It
only
clung
to
her
and
patted
her
black
sleeve
and
kissed
it
,
as
if
it
wanted
to
comfort
her
.
I
kept
expecting
it
to
cry
,
but
it
didn
’
t
.
It
made
me
cry
because
it
seemed
so
sure
that
it
could
comfort
her
if
she
would
only
remember
that
it
was
alive
and
loved
her
.
I
wish
,
I
wish
death
did
not
make
people
feel
as
if
it
filled
all
the
world
—
as
if
,
when
it
happens
,
there
is
no
life
left
anywhere
.
The
child
who
was
alive
by
her
side
did
not
seem
a
living
thing
to
her
.
It
didn
’
t
matter
.
”
I
had
never
said
as
much
to
any
one
before
,
but
his
watching
eyes
made
me
forget
my
shy
worldlessness
.
“
What
do
you
feel
about
it
—
death
?
”
he
asked
.
The
low
gentleness
of
his
voice
seemed
something
I
had
known
always
.
“
I
never
saw
it
,
”
I
answered
.
“
I
have
never
even
seen
any
one
dangerously
ill
.
I
—
It
is
as
if
I
can
’
t
believe
it
.
”
“
You
can
’
t
believe
it
?
That
is
a
wonderful
thing
,
”
he
said
,
even
more
quietly
than
before
.
“
If
none
of
us
believed
,
how
wonderful
that
would
be
!
Beautiful
,
too
.
”
“
How
that
poor
mother
believed
it
!
”
I
said
,
remembering
her
swollen
,
distorted
,
sobbing
face
.
“
She
believed
nothing
else
;
everything
else
was
gone
.
”
