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- Колин Маккалоу
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- Стр. 53/535
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"
Well
,
I
suppose
I
'll
have
to
go
and
see
Archibald
,
"
Paddy
said
at
last
.
"
It
's
too
late
now
to
look
for
another
shed
to
replace
his
,
but
I
do
think
he
owes
me
a
better
explanation
than
this
.
We
'll
just
have
to
hope
we
can
find
work
milking
until
Willoughby
's
shed
starts
in
July
.
"
Meggie
pulled
a
square
of
white
towel
from
the
huge
pile
sitting
by
the
stove
warming
and
spread
it
carefully
on
the
work
table
,
then
lifted
the
crying
child
out
of
the
wicker
crib
.
The
Cleary
hair
glittered
sparsely
on
his
little
skull
as
Meggie
changed
his
diaper
swiftly
,
and
as
efficiently
as
her
mother
could
have
done
.
"
Little
Mother
Meggie
,
"
Frank
said
,
to
tease
her
.
"
I
'm
not
!
"
she
answered
indignantly
.
"
I
'm
just
helping
Mum
.
"
"
I
know
,
"
he
said
gently
.
"
You
're
a
good
girl
,
wee
Meggie
.
"
He
tugged
at
the
white
taffeta
bow
on
the
back
of
her
head
until
it
hung
lopsided
.
Up
came
the
big
grey
eyes
to
his
face
adoringly
;
over
the
nodding
head
of
the
baby
she
might
have
been
his
own
age
,
or
older
.
There
was
a
pain
in
his
chest
,
that
this
should
have
fallen
upon
her
at
an
age
when
the
only
baby
she
ought
to
be
caring
for
was
Agnes
,
now
relegated
forgotten
to
the
bedroom
.
If
it
was
n't
for
her
and
their
mother
,
he
would
have
been
gone
long
since
.
He
looked
at
his
father
sourly
,
the
cause
of
the
new
life
creating
such
chaos
in
the
house
.
Served
him
right
,
getting
done
out
of
his
shed
.
Somehow
the
other
boys
and
even
Meggie
had
never
intruded
on
his
thoughts
the
way
Hal
did
;
but
when
Fee
's
waistline
began
to
swell
this
time
,
he
was
old
enough
himself
to
be
married
and
a
father
.
Everyone
except
little
Meggie
had
been
uncomfortable
about
it
,
his
mother
especially
.
The
furtive
glances
of
the
boys
made
her
shrink
like
a
rabbit
;
she
could
not
meet
Frank
's
eyes
or
quench
the
shame
in
her
own
.
Nor
should
any
woman
go
through
that
,
Frank
said
to
himself
for
the
thousandth
time
,
remembering
the
horrifying
moans
and
cries
which
had
come
from
her
bedroom
the
night
Hal
was
born
;
of
age
now
,
he
had
n't
been
packed
off
elsewhere
like
the
others
.
Served
Daddy
right
,
losing
his
shed
.
A
decent
man
would
have
left
her
alone
.
His
mother
's
head
in
the
new
electric
light
was
spun
gold
,
the
pure
profile
as
she
looked
down
the
long
table
at
Paddy
unspeakably
beautiful
.
How
had
someone
as
lovely
and
refined
as
she
married
an
itinerant
shearer
from
the
bogs
of
Galway
?
Wasting
herself
and
her
Spode
china
,
her
damask
table
napery
and
her
Persian
rugs
in
the
parlor
that
no
one
ever
saw
,
because
she
did
n't
fit
in
with
the
wives
of
Paddy
's
peers
.
She
made
them
too
conscious
of
their
vulgar
loud
voices
,
their
bewilderment
when
faced
with
more
than
one
fork
.
Sometimes
on
a
Sunday
she
would
go
into
the
lonely
parlor
,
sit
down
at
the
spinet
under
the
window
and
play
,
though
her
touch
had
long
gone
from
want
of
time
to
practice
and
she
could
no
longer
manage
any
but
the
simplest
pieces
.
He
would
sit
beneath
the
window
among
the
lilacs
and
the
lilies
,
and
close
his
eyes
to
listen
.
There
was
a
sort
of
vision
he
had
then
,
of
his
mother
clad
in
a
long
bustled
gown
of
palest
pink
shadow
lace
sitting
at
the
spinet
in
a
huge
ivory
room
,
great
branches
of
candles
all
around
her
.
It
would
make
him
long
to
weep
,
but
he
never
wept
anymore
;
not
since
that
night
in
the
barn
after
the
police
had
brought
him
home
.
