Дети железной дороги
The terrible secret.
"Thenit’smyturnnow,"saidPeter.Andthatwashowthequarrelbegan.
"You’realwaysbeingdisagreeableaboutnothing,"saidPeter,aftersomeheatedargument.
"Ihadtherakefirst,"saidBobbie,flushedanddefiant,holdingontoitshandle.
"Don’t—ItellyouIsaidthismorningImeanttohaveit.Didn’tI,Phil?"
Phyllissaidshedidn’twanttobemixedupintheirrows.Andinstantly,ofcourse,shewas.
"Ifyouremember,yououghttosay."
"Ofcourseshedoesn’tremember—butshemightsayso."
"IwishI’dhadabrotherinsteadoftwowhinylittlekiddysisters,"saidPeter.Thiswasalwaysrecognisedasindicatingthehigh-watermarkofPeter’srage.
Bobbiemadethereplyshealwaysmadetoit.
"Ican’tthinkwhylittleboyswereeverinvented,"andjustasshesaiditshelookedup,andsawthethreelongwindowsofMother’sworkshopflashingintheredraysofthesun.Thesightbroughtbackthosewordsofpraise:—
"Youdon’tquarrellikeyouusedtodo."
"OH!"criedBobbie,justasifshehadbeenhit,orhadcaughtherfingerinadoor,orhadfeltthehideoussharpbeginningsoftoothache.
"What’sthematter?"saidPhyllis.
Bobbiewantedtosay:"Don’tlet’squarrel.Motherhatesitso,"butthoughshetriedhard,shecouldn’t.
