Вино из одуванчиков

           Trembling,shelookeditthroughandthrough,andsighing,gaveitbacktohim.

           "SawDougSpauldingoutsidejustnow.Saidhehadamessageforyou.Saidforyounottoworry—hesaweverythingandeverything’sallright.Whatdidhemeanbythat?"

           "I’msureIwouldn’tknow."Femturnedherbackandsearchedforherhandkerchief.

           "Ohwell,thesekids."Franklookedathissister’sbackforalongmoment,thenshrugged.

           "Supperalmostready?"heaskedpleasantly.

           "Yes."Fernsetthekitchentable.

           Therewasabulbingcryfromoutside.Once,twice,threetimes—faraway.

           "What’sthat?"Frankpeeredthroughthekitchenwindowintothedusk."What’sRobertaupto?Lookatheroutthere,sittingintheGreenMachine,pokingtherubberhorn!"

           Once,twicemore,inthedusk,softly,likesomekindofmournfulanimal,thebulbingsoundwaspinchedout.

           "What’sgotintoher?"demandedFrank.

           "Youjustleaveheralone!"screamedFern.Franklookedsurprised.

           AmomentlaterRobertaenteredquietly,withoutlookingatanyone,andtheyallsatdowntosupper.

           Thefirstlightontheroofoutside;veryearlymorning.Theleavesonallthetreestremblewithasoftawakeningtoanybreezethedawnmayoffer.Andthen,faroff,aroundacurveofsilvertrack,comesthetrolley,balancedonfoursmallsteel-bluewheels,anditispaintedthecoloroftangerines.Epauletsofshimmerybrasscoveritandpipingsofgold;anditschromebellbingsiftheancientmotormantapsitwithawrinkledshoe.