Вино из одуванчиков

           You’reinthepresent,you’retrappedinayoungnoworanoldnow,butthereisnoothernowtobeseen."

           Ithadbeenoneofthefew,butgentle,disputesoftheirquietmarriage.Hehadneverapprovedofherbric-a-brackery."Bewhatyouare,burywhatyouarenot,"hehadsaid."Ticketstubsaretrickery.Savingthingsisamagictrick,withmirrors."

           Ifhewerealivetonight,whatwouldhesay?

           "You’resavingcocoons."That’swhathe’dsay."Corsets,inaway,youcanneverfitagain.Sowhysavethem?Youcan’treallyproveyouwereeveryoung.Pictures?No,theylie.You’renotthepicture."

           "Affidavits?"

           "No,mydear,you’renotthedates,ortheink,orthepaper.You’renotthesetrunksofjunkanddust.You’reonlyyou,here,now—thepresentyou."

           Mrs.Bentleynoddedatthememory,breathingeasier.

           "Yes,Isee.Isee."

           Thegold-feruledcanelaysilentlyonthemoonlitrug.

           "Inthemorning,"shesaidtoit,"Iwilldosomethingfinalaboutthis,andsettledowntobeingonlyme,andnobodyelsefromanyotheryear.Yes,that’swhatI’lldo."

           Sheslept...

           Themorningwasbrightandgreen,andthereatherdoor,bumpingsoftlyonthescreen,werethetwogirls."Gotanymoretogiveus,Mrs.Bentley?Moreofthelittlegirl’sthings?"

           Sheledthemdownthehalltothelibrary.

           "Takethis."ShegaveJanethedressinwhichshehadplayedthemandarin’sdaughteratfifteen."Andthis,andthis."Akaleidoscope,amagnifyingglass."Pickanythingyouwant,"saidMrs.Bentley.