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- Луиза Мэй Олкотт
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- Стр. 431/451
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So
the
only
way
in
which
he
could
express
his
rapture
was
to
look
at
her
,
with
an
expression
which
glorified
his
face
to
such
a
degree
that
there
actually
seemed
to
be
little
rainbows
in
the
drops
that
sparkled
on
his
beard
.
If
he
had
not
loved
Jo
very
much
,
I
don
’
t
think
he
could
have
done
it
then
,
for
she
looked
far
from
lovely
,
with
her
skirts
in
a
deplorable
state
,
her
rubber
boots
splashed
to
the
ankle
,
and
her
bonnet
a
ruin
.
Fortunately
,
Mr
.
Bhaer
considered
her
the
most
beautiful
woman
living
,
and
she
found
him
more
"
Jove
-
like
"
than
ever
,
though
his
hatbrim
was
quite
limp
with
the
little
rills
trickling
thence
upon
his
shoulders
(
for
he
held
the
umbrella
all
over
Jo
)
,
and
every
finger
of
his
gloves
needed
mending
.
Passers
-
by
probably
thought
them
a
pair
of
harmless
lunatics
,
for
they
entirely
forgot
to
hail
a
bus
,
and
strolled
leisurely
along
,
oblivious
of
deepening
dusk
and
fog
.
Little
they
cared
what
anybody
thought
,
for
they
were
enjoying
the
happy
hour
that
seldom
comes
but
once
in
any
life
,
the
magical
moment
which
bestows
youth
on
the
old
,
beauty
on
the
plain
,
wealth
on
the
poor
,
and
gives
human
hearts
a
foretaste
of
heaven
.
The
Professor
looked
as
if
he
had
conquered
a
kingdom
,
and
the
world
had
nothing
more
to
offer
him
in
the
way
of
bliss
.
While
Jo
trudged
beside
him
,
feeling
as
if
her
place
had
always
been
there
,
and
wondering
how
she
ever
could
have
chosen
any
other
lot
.
Of
course
,
she
was
the
first
to
speak
—
intelligibly
,
I
mean
,
for
the
emotional
remarks
which
followed
her
impetuous
"
Oh
,
yes
!
"
were
not
of
a
coherent
or
reportable
character
.
"
Friedrich
,
why
didn
’
t
you
.
.
.
"
"
Ah
,
heaven
,
she
gifs
me
the
name
that
no
one
speaks
since
Minna
died
!
"
cried
the
Professor
,
pausing
in
a
puddle
to
regard
her
with
grateful
delight
.
"
I
always
call
you
so
to
myself
—
I
forgot
,
but
I
won
’
t
unless
you
like
it
.
"
"
Like
it
?
It
is
more
sweet
to
me
than
I
can
tell
.
Say
‘
thou
’
,
also
,
and
I
shall
say
your
language
is
almost
as
beautiful
as
mine
.
"
"
Isn
’
t
‘
thou
’
a
little
sentimental
?
"
asked
Jo
,
privately
thinking
it
a
lovely
monosyllable
.
"
Sentimental
?
Yes
.
Thank
Gott
,
we
Germans
believe
in
sentiment
,
and
keep
ourselves
young
mit
it
.
Your
English
‘
you
’
is
so
cold
,
say
‘
thou
’
,
heart
’
s
dearest
,
it
means
so
much
to
me
,
"
pleaded
Mr
.
Bhaer
,
more
like
a
romantic
student
than
a
grave
professor
.
"
Well
,
then
,
why
didn
’
t
thou
tell
me
all
this
sooner
?
"
asked
Jo
bashfully
.
