Вино из одуванчиков

           Looktherenow!Well,Imustgethomeanyway.Sinceyou’reareporter,comeforteatomorrowbetweenthreeandfour;it’sjustpossibleIcansketchoutthehistoryofthistown,sinceitwasatradingpost,foryou.And,sowe’llbothhavesomethingforourcuriositytochewon,Mr.Forrester,youremindmeofagentlemanIwentwithseventy,yes,seventyyearsago.

           Shesatacrossfromthemanditwasliketalkingwithagrayandlostquiveringmoth.Thevoicecamefromfarawayinsidethegraynessandtheoldness,wrappedinthepowdersofpressedflowersandancientbutterflies.

           "Well."Shearose."Willyoucometomorrow?"

           "Imostcertainlywill,"saidBillForrester.

           Andshewentoffintothetownonbusiness,leavingtheyoungboyandtheyoungmanthere,lookingafterher,slowlyfinishingtheiricecream.

           WilliamForresterspentthenextmorningcheckinglocalnewsitemsforthepaper,hadtimeafterlunchforsomelocalnewsitemsforthepaper,hadtimeafterlunchforsomefishingintheriveroutsidetown,caughtonlysomesmallfishwhichhethrewbackhappily,and,withoutthinkingaboutit,oratleastnotnoticingthathehadthoughtaboutit,atthreeo’clockhefoundhiscartakinghimdownacertainstreet,Hewatchedwithinterestashishandsturnedthesteeringwheelandmotoredhimupavastcirculardrivewherehestoppedunderanivy-coveredentry.