Аня из Зелёных Мезонинов

Chapter VIII. Anne’s Bringing-up Is Begun

           Theflooriscoveredwithawhitevelvetcarpetwithpinkrosesalloveritandtherearepinksilkcurtainsatthewindows.Thewallsarehungwithgoldandsilverbrocadetapestry.Thefurnitureismahogany.Ineversawanymahogany,butitdoessoundsoluxurious.Thisisacouchallheapedwithgorgeoussilkencushions,pinkandblueandcrimsonandgold,andIamreclininggracefullyonit.Icanseemyreflectioninthatsplendidbigmirrorhangingonthewall.Iamtallandregal,cladinagownoftrailingwhitelace,withapearlcrossonmybreastandpearlsinmyhair.Myhairisofmidnightdarknessandmyskinisaclearivorypallor.MynameistheLadyCordeliaFitzgerald.No,itisn’t—Ican’tmakethatseemreal.”

           Shedanceduptothelittlelooking-glassandpeeredintoit.Herpointedfreckledfaceandsolemngrayeyespeeredbackather.

           “You’reonlyAnneofGreenGables,”shesaidearnestly,“andIseeyou,justasyouarelookingnow,wheneverItrytoimagineI’mtheLadyCordelia.Butit’samilliontimesnicertobeAnneofGreenGablesthanAnneofnowhereinparticular,isn’tit?”

           Shebentforward,kissedherreflectionaffectionately,andbetookherselftotheopenwindow.

           “DearSnowQueen,goodafternoon.Andgoodafternoondearbirchesdowninthehollow.Andgoodafternoon,deargrayhouseuponthehill.IwonderifDianaistobemybosomfriend.Ihopeshewill,andIshallloveherverymuch.ButImustneverquiteforgetKatieMauriceandVioletta

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