Вино из одуванчиков

           Twooldwomencollapsedagainsttheatticdoor,eachscrabblingtolockittight,tight.Athousandpigeonsseemedtohaveleapedofftheroofrightovertheirheads.Theybentasifburdened,duckedunderthedrumofbeatingwings.Thentheystopped,theirmouthssurprised.Whattheyheardwasonlythepuresoundofpanic,theirheartsintheirchests...Abovetheuproar,theytriedtomakethemselvesheard."What’vewedone!PoorMisterQuartermain!"

           "Wemust’vekilledhim.Andsomeonemust’veseenandfollowedus.Look..."

           MissFernandMissRobertapeeredfromthecobwebbedatticwindow.Below,asifnogreattragedyhadoccurred,theoaksandelmscontinuedtogrowinfreshsunlight.Aboystrolledbyonthesidewalk,turned,strolledbyagain,lookingup.

           Intheattictheoldwomenpeeredateachotherasiftryingtoseetheirfacesinarunningstream.

           "Thepolice!"

           Butnoonehammeredthedownstairsdoorandcried,"Inthenameofthelaw!""Who’sthatboydownthere?"

           "Douglas,DouglasSpaulding!Lord,he’scometoaskforarideinourGreenMachine.Hedoesn’tknow.Ourpridehasruinedus.Prideandthatelectricalcontraption!"

           "ThatterriblesalesmanfromGumportFalls.It’shisfault,himandhistalking."

           Talking,talking,likesoftrainonasummerroof.

           Suddenlyitwasanotherday,anothernoon.Theysatwithwhitefansanddishesofcool,tremblinglimeJell-Oontheirarboredporch.

           Outoftheblindingglare,outoftheyellowsun,glittering,splendidasaprince’scoach...