-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Колин Маккалоу
-
- Поющие в терновнике
-
- Стр. 96/535
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
It
was
August
,
and
bitterly
cold
.
Just
a
year
since
they
had
arrived
in
Australia
;
but
this
was
a
colder
winter
than
last
.
The
rain
was
absent
and
the
air
was
so
crisp
it
hurt
the
lungs
.
Up
on
the
tops
of
the
Great
Divide
three
hundred
miles
to
the
east
,
snow
lay
thicker
than
in
many
years
,
but
no
rain
had
fallen
west
of
Burren
Junction
since
the
monsoonal
drenching
of
the
previous
summer
.
People
in
Gilly
were
speaking
of
another
drought
:
it
was
overdue
,
it
must
come
,
perhaps
this
would
be
it
.
When
Meggie
saw
her
mother
,
she
felt
as
if
an
awful
weight
settled
upon
her
being
;
maybe
a
leaving-behind
of
childhood
,
a
presentiment
of
what
it
was
to
be
a
woman
.
Outwardly
there
was
no
change
,
aside
from
the
big
belly
;
but
inwardly
Fee
had
slowed
down
like
a
tired
old
clock
,
running
time
down
and
down
until
it
was
forever
stilled
.
The
briskness
Meggie
had
never
known
absent
from
her
mother
had
gone
.
She
picked
her
feet
up
and
put
them
down
again
as
if
she
was
no
longer
sure
of
the
right
way
to
do
it
,
a
sort
of
spiritual
fumbling
got
into
her
gait
;
and
there
was
no
joy
in
her
for
the
coming
baby
,
not
even
the
rigidly
controlled
content
she
had
shown
over
Hal
.
That
little
red-haired
fellow
was
toddling
all
over
the
house
,
constantly
into
everything
,
but
Fee
made
no
attempt
to
discipline
him
,
or
even
supervise
his
activities
.
She
plodded
in
her
self-perpetuating
circle
of
stove
,
worktable
and
sink
as
if
nothing
else
existed
.
So
Meggie
had
no
choice
;
she
simply
filled
the
vacuum
in
the
child
's
life
and
became
his
mother
.
It
was
n't
any
sacrifice
,
for
she
loved
him
dearly
and
found
him
a
helpless
,
willing
target
for
all
the
love
she
was
beginning
to
want
to
lavish
on
some
human
creature
.
He
cried
for
her
,
he
spoke
her
name
before
all
others
,
he
lifted
his
arms
to
her
to
be
picked
up
;
it
was
so
satisfying
it
filled
her
with
joy
.
In
spite
of
the
drudgery
,
the
knitting
and
mending
and
sewing
,
the
washing
,
the
ironing
,
the
hens
,
all
the
other
jobs
she
had
to
do
,
Meggie
found
her
life
very
pleasant
.
No
one
ever
mentioned
Frank
,
but
every
six
weeks
Fee
would
lift
her
head
when
she
heard
the
mail
call
,
and
for
a
while
be
animated
.
Then
Mrs.
Smith
would
bring
in
their
share
of
whatever
had
come
,
and
when
it
contained
no
letter
from
Frank
the
small
burst
of
painful
interest
would
die
.
There
were
two
new
lives
in
the
house
.
Fee
was
delivered
of
twins
,
two
more
tiny
red-haired
Cleary
boys
,
christened
James
and
Patrick
.
The
dearest
little
fellows
,
with
their
father
's
sunny
disposition
and
his
sweetness
of
nature
,
they
became
common
property
immediately
they
were
born
,
for
beyond
giving
them
milk
Fee
took
no
interest
in
them
.
Soon
their
names
were
shortened
to
Jims
and
Patsy
;
they
were
prime
favorites
with
the
women
up
at
the
big
house
,
the
two
spinster
maids
and
the
widowed
childless
housekeeper
,
who
were
starved
for
the
deliciousness
of
babies
.
It
was
made
magically
easy
for
Fee
to
forget
them
--
they
had
three
very
eager
mothers
--
and
as
time
went
on
it
became
the
accepted
thing
that
they
should
spend
most
of
their
waking
hours
up
at
the
big
house
.
Meggie
just
did
n't
have
time
to
take
them
under
her
wing
as
well
as
managing
Hal
,
who
was
extremely
possessive
.
Not
for
him
the
awkward
,
unpracticed
blandishments
of
Mrs.
Smith
,
Minnie
and
Cat
.
Meggie
was
the
loving
nucleus
of
Hal
's
world
;
he
wanted
no
one
but
Meggie
,
he
would
have
no
one
but
Meggie
.
*
*
*
Bluey
Williams
traded
in
his
lovely
draft
horses
and
his
massive
dray
for
a
truck
and
the
mail
came
every
four
weeks
instead
of
every
six
,
but
there
was
never
a
word
from
Frank
.
And
gradually
his
memory
slipped
a
little
,
as
memories
do
,
even
those
with
so
much
love
attached
to
them
;
as
if
there
is
an
unconscious
healing
process
within
the
mind
which
mends
up
in
spite
of
our
desperate
determination
never
to
forget
.
To
Meggie
,
an
aching
fading
of
the
way
Frank
had
looked
,
a
blurring
of
the
beloved
lineaments
to
some
fuzzy
,
saintlike
image
no
more
related
to
the
real
Frank
than
a
holy-picture
Christ
to
what
must
have
been
the
Man
.
And
to
Fee
,
from
out
of
those
silent
depths
in
which
she
had
stilled
the
evolution
of
her
soul
,
a
substitution
.
It
came
about
so
unobtrusively
that
no
one
noticed
.
For
Fee
kept
herself
folded
up
with
quietness
,
and
a
total
undemonstrativeness
;
the
substitution
was
an
inner
thing
no
one
had
time
to
see
,
except
the
new
object
of
her
love
,
who
made
no
outward
sign
.
