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- Аня из Авонлеи
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- Стр. 90/198
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“
Thank
you
,
”
she
said
.
“
And
.
.
.
and
.
.
.
you
needn
’
t
mention
that
little
conversation
of
mine
with
Jerry
.
”
“
I
have
no
intention
of
mentioning
it
in
any
case
,
”
said
Anne
icily
,
for
she
would
have
seen
every
fence
in
Avonlea
painted
with
advertisements
before
she
would
have
stooped
to
bargain
with
a
man
who
would
sell
his
vote
.
“
Just
so
.
.
.
just
so
,
”
agreed
Judson
,
imagining
that
they
understood
each
other
beautifully
.
“
I
didn
’
t
suppose
you
would
.
Of
course
,
I
was
only
stringing
Jerry
.
.
.
he
thinks
he
’
s
so
all
-
fired
cute
and
smart
.
I
’
ve
no
intention
of
voting
for
Amesbury
.
I
’
m
going
to
vote
for
Grant
as
I
’
ve
always
done
.
.
.
you
’
ll
see
that
when
the
election
comes
off
.
I
just
led
Jerry
on
to
see
if
he
would
commit
himself
.
And
it
’
s
all
right
about
the
fence
.
.
.
you
can
tell
the
Improvers
that
.
”
“
It
takes
all
sorts
of
people
to
make
a
world
,
as
I
’
ve
often
heard
,
but
I
think
there
are
some
who
could
be
spared
,
”
Anne
told
her
reflection
in
the
east
gable
mirror
that
night
.
“
I
wouldn
’
t
have
mentioned
the
disgraceful
thing
to
a
soul
anyhow
,
so
my
conscience
is
clear
on
THAT
score
.
I
really
don
’
t
know
who
or
what
is
to
be
thanked
for
this
.
I
did
nothing
to
bring
it
about
,
and
it
’
s
hard
to
believe
that
Providence
ever
works
by
means
of
the
kind
of
politics
men
like
Judson
Parker
and
Jerry
Corcoran
have
.
”
Anne
locked
the
schoolhouse
door
on
a
still
,
yellow
evening
,
when
the
winds
were
purring
in
the
spruces
around
the
playground
,
and
the
shadows
were
long
and
lazy
by
the
edge
of
the
woods
.
She
dropped
the
key
into
her
pocket
with
a
sigh
of
satisfaction
.
The
school
year
was
ended
,
she
had
been
reengaged
for
the
next
,
with
many
expressions
of
satisfaction
.
.
.
.
only
Mr
.
Harmon
Andrews
told
her
she
ought
to
use
the
strap
oftener
.
.
.
and
two
delightful
months
of
a
well
-
earned
vacation
beckoned
her
invitingly
.
Anne
felt
at
peace
with
the
world
and
herself
as
she
walked
down
the
hill
with
her
basket
of
flowers
in
her
hand
.
Since
the
earliest
mayflowers
Anne
had
never
missed
her
weekly
pilgrimage
to
Matthew
’
s
grave
.
Everyone
else
in
Avonlea
,
except
Marilla
,
had
already
forgotten
quiet
,
shy
,
unimportant
Matthew
Cuthbert
;
but
his
memory
was
still
green
in
Anne
’
s
heart
and
always
would
be
.
She
could
never
forget
the
kind
old
man
who
had
been
the
first
to
give
her
the
love
and
sympathy
her
starved
childhood
had
craved
.
At
the
foot
of
the
hill
a
boy
was
sitting
on
the
fence
in
the
shadow
of
the
spruces
.
.
.
a
boy
with
big
,
dreamy
eyes
and
a
beautiful
,
sensitive
face
.
He
swung
down
and
joined
Anne
,
smiling
;
but
there
were
traces
of
tears
on
his
cheeks
.
“
I
thought
I
’
d
wait
for
you
,
teacher
,
because
I
knew
you
were
going
to
the
graveyard
,
”
he
said
,
slipping
his
hand
into
hers
.
“
I
’
m
going
there
,
too
.
.
.
I
’
m
taking
this
bouquet
of
geraniums
to
put
on
Grandpa
Irving
’
s
grave
for
grandma
.
And
look
,
teacher
,
I
’
m
going
to
put
this
bunch
of
white
roses
beside
Grandpa
’
s
grave
in
memory
of
my
little
mother
.
.
.
because
I
can
’
t
go
to
her
grave
to
put
it
there
.
But
don
’
t
you
think
she
’
ll
know
all
about
it
,
just
the
same
?
”
“
Yes
,
I
am
sure
she
will
,
Paul
.
”
