Вино из одуванчиков

           Itsmelledlikeagreenhouse,ofsecretvaporsandancient,washedshalesandquicksands.Andalwaystheblackdynamohumming,withsparkleslikegreatelectricitywherefirefliesmovedontheair.

           "Itwon’tbemecomingbackthroughthisoldravinetonightlate,sodarnedlate;it’llbeyou,Lavinia,youdownthestepsandoverthebridgeandmaybetheLonelyOnethere."

           "Bosh!"saidLaviniaNebbs.

           "It’llbeyoualoneonthepath,listeningtoyourshoes,notme.Youallaloneonthewaybacktoyourhouse.Lavinia,don’tyougetlonelylivinginthathouse?"

           "Oldmaidslovetolivealone."Laviniapointedatthehotshadowypathleadingdownintothedark."Let’staketheshortcut."

           "I’mafraid!"

           "It’searly.LonelyOnewon’tbeouttilllate."Laviniatooktheother’sarmandledherdownanddownthecrookedpathintothecricketwarmthandfrogsoundandmosquito-delicatesilence.Theybrushedthroughsummer-scorchedgrass,burspricklingattheirbareankles.

           "Let’srun!"gaspedFrancine.

           "No!"

           Theyturnedacurveinthepath—andthereitwas.

           Inthesingingdeepnight,intheshadeofwarmtrees,asifshehadlaidherselfouttoenjoythesoftstarsandtheeasywind,herhandsateithersideofherliketheoarsofadelicatecraft,layElizabethRamsell!

           Francinescreamed.

           "Don’tscream!"LaviniaputoutherhandstoholdontoFrancine,whowaswhimperingandchoking.