Чарли и шоколадная фабрика
Good-bye Violet
’I’mnotsurprised!’saidMrBeauregarde.
’Greatheavens,girl!’screechedMrsBeauregarde.’You’reblowinguplikeaballoon!’
’Likeablueberry,’saidMrWonka.
’Calladoctor!’shoutedMrBeauregarde.
’Prickherwithapin!’saidoneoftheotherfathers.
’Saveher!’criedMrsBeauregarde,wringingherhands.
Buttherewasnosavinghernow. Herbodywasswellingupandchangingshapeatsucharatethatwithinaminuteithadturnedintonothinglessthananenormousroundblueball—agiganticblueberry,infact—andallthatremainedofVioletBeauregardeherselfwasatinypairoflegsandatinypairofarmsstickingoutofthegreatroundfruitandlittleheadontop.
’Italwayshappenslikethat,’sighedMrWonka. ’I’vetriedittwentytimesintheTestingRoomontwentyOompa-Loompas,andeveryoneofthemfinishedupasablueberry. It’smostannoying.Ijustcan’tunderstandit.’
’ButIdon’twantablueberryforadaughter!’yelledMrsBeauregarde.’Putherbacktowhatshewasthisinstant!’
MrWonkaclickedhisfingers,andtenOompa-Loompasappearedimmediatelyathisside.
’RollMissBeauregardeintotheboat,’hesaidtothem,’andtakeheralongtotheJuicingRoomatonce.’
