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- Аня из Авонлеи
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- Стр. 176/198
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“
I
think
it
would
,
”
agreed
Anne
solemnly
.
“
Anyway
,
I
daresay
that
if
your
Grandma
and
I
both
got
down
to
what
we
really
do
mean
,
under
our
different
ways
of
expressing
it
,
we
’
d
find
out
we
both
meant
much
the
same
thing
.
You
’
d
better
go
by
her
way
of
expressing
it
,
since
it
’
s
been
the
result
of
experience
.
We
’
ll
have
to
wait
until
we
see
how
the
twins
do
turn
out
before
we
can
be
sure
that
my
way
is
equally
good
.
”
After
lunch
they
went
back
to
the
garden
,
where
Paul
made
the
acquaintance
of
the
echoes
,
to
his
wonder
and
delight
,
while
Anne
and
Miss
Lavendar
sat
on
the
stone
bench
under
the
poplar
and
talked
.
“
So
you
are
going
away
in
the
fall
?
”
said
Miss
Lavendar
wistfully
.
“
I
ought
to
be
glad
for
your
sake
,
Anne
.
.
.
but
I
’
m
horribly
,
selfishly
sorry
.
I
shall
miss
you
so
much
.
Oh
,
sometimes
,
I
think
it
is
of
no
use
to
make
friends
.
They
only
go
out
of
your
life
after
awhile
and
leave
a
hurt
that
is
worse
than
the
emptiness
before
they
came
.
”
“
That
sounds
like
something
Miss
Eliza
Andrews
might
say
but
never
Miss
Lavendar
,
”
said
Anne
.
“
NOTHING
is
worse
than
emptiness
.
.
.
and
I
’
m
not
going
out
of
your
life
.
There
are
such
things
as
letters
and
vacations
.
Dearest
,
I
’
m
afraid
you
’
re
looking
a
little
pale
and
tired
.
”
“
Oh
.
.
.
hoo
.
.
.
hoo
.
.
.
hoo
,
”
went
Paul
on
the
dyke
,
where
he
had
been
making
noises
diligently
.
.
.
not
all
of
them
melodious
in
the
making
,
but
all
coming
back
transmuted
into
the
very
gold
and
silver
of
sound
by
the
fairy
alchemists
over
the
river
.
Miss
Lavendar
made
an
impatient
movement
with
her
pretty
hands
.
“
I
’
m
just
tired
of
everything
.
.
.
even
of
the
echoes
.
There
is
nothing
in
my
life
but
echoes
.
.
.
echoes
of
lost
hopes
and
dreams
and
joys
.
They
’
re
beautiful
and
mocking
.
Oh
Anne
,
it
’
s
horrid
of
me
to
talk
like
this
when
I
have
company
.
It
’
s
just
that
I
’
m
getting
old
and
it
doesn
’
t
agree
with
me
.
I
know
I
’
ll
be
fearfully
cranky
by
the
time
I
’
m
sixty
.
But
perhaps
all
I
need
is
a
course
of
blue
pills
.
”
At
this
moment
Charlotta
the
Fourth
,
who
had
disappeared
after
lunch
,
returned
,
and
announced
that
the
northeast
corner
of
Mr
.
John
Kimball
’
s
pasture
was
red
with
early
strawberries
,
and
wouldn
’
t
Miss
Shirley
like
to
go
and
pick
some
.
“
Early
strawberries
for
tea
!
”
exclaimed
Miss
Lavendar
.
“
Oh
,
I
’
m
not
so
old
as
I
thought
.
.
.
and
I
don
’
t
need
a
single
blue
pill
!
Girls
,
when
you
come
back
with
your
strawberries
we
’
ll
have
tea
out
here
under
the
silver
poplar
.
I
’
ll
have
it
all
ready
for
you
with
home
-
grown
cream
.
”
Anne
and
Charlotta
the
Fourth
accordingly
betook
themselves
back
to
Mr
.
Kimball
’
s
pasture
,
a
green
remote
place
where
the
air
was
as
soft
as
velvet
and
fragrant
as
a
bed
of
violets
and
golden
as
amber
.
“
Oh
,
isn
’
t
it
sweet
and
fresh
back
here
?
”
breathed
Anne
.
“
I
just
feel
as
if
I
were
drinking
in
the
sunshine
.
”
