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- Люси Мод Монтгомери
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- Аня из Зелёных Мезонинов
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- Стр. 19/212
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“
I
suppose
you
have
a
nightgown
?
”
she
questioned
.
Anne
nodded
.
“
Yes
,
I
have
two
.
The
matron
of
the
asylum
made
them
for
me
.
They
’
re
fearfully
skimpy
.
There
is
never
enough
to
go
around
in
an
asylum
,
so
things
are
always
skimpy
—
at
least
in
a
poor
asylum
like
ours
.
I
hate
skimpy
night
-
dresses
.
But
one
can
dream
just
as
well
in
them
as
in
lovely
trailing
ones
,
with
frills
around
the
neck
,
that
’
s
one
consolation
.
”
“
Well
,
undress
as
quick
as
you
can
and
go
to
bed
.
I
’
ll
come
back
in
a
few
minutes
for
the
candle
.
I
daren
’
t
trust
you
to
put
it
out
yourself
.
You
’
d
likely
set
the
place
on
fire
.
”
When
Marilla
had
gone
Anne
looked
around
her
wistfully
.
The
whitewashed
walls
were
so
painfully
bare
and
staring
that
she
thought
they
must
ache
over
their
own
bareness
.
The
floor
was
bare
,
too
,
except
for
a
round
braided
mat
in
the
middle
such
as
Anne
had
never
seen
before
.
In
one
corner
was
the
bed
,
a
high
,
old
-
fashioned
one
,
with
four
dark
,
low
-
turned
posts
.
In
the
other
corner
was
the
aforesaid
three
-
corner
table
adorned
with
a
fat
,
red
velvet
pin
-
cushion
hard
enough
to
turn
the
point
of
the
most
adventurous
pin
.
Above
it
hung
a
little
six
-
by
-
eight
mirror
.
Midway
between
table
and
bed
was
the
window
,
with
an
icy
white
muslin
frill
over
it
,
and
opposite
it
was
the
wash
-
stand
.
The
whole
apartment
was
of
a
rigidity
not
to
be
described
in
words
,
but
which
sent
a
shiver
to
the
very
marrow
of
Anne
’
s
bones
.
With
a
sob
she
hastily
discarded
her
garments
,
put
on
the
skimpy
nightgown
and
sprang
into
bed
where
she
burrowed
face
downward
into
the
pillow
and
pulled
the
clothes
over
her
head
.
When
Marilla
came
up
for
the
light
various
skimpy
articles
of
raiment
scattered
most
untidily
over
the
floor
and
a
certain
tempestuous
appearance
of
the
bed
were
the
only
indications
of
any
presence
save
her
own
.
She
deliberately
picked
up
Anne
’
s
clothes
,
placed
them
neatly
on
a
prim
yellow
chair
,
and
then
,
taking
up
the
candle
,
went
over
to
the
bed
.
“
Good
night
,
”
she
said
,
a
little
awkwardly
,
but
not
unkindly
.
Anne
’
s
white
face
and
big
eyes
appeared
over
the
bedclothes
with
a
startling
suddenness
.
“
How
can
you
call
it
a
good
night
when
you
know
it
must
be
the
very
worst
night
I
’
ve
ever
had
?
”
she
said
reproachfully
.
