Вино из одуванчиков

           TheGreenMachinesailedoninthehotdaylight,undertheshadychestnuttrees,pasttheripeningappletrees.Lookingbackonlyonce,thetwooldladies’eyesfilledwithfadedhorror.

           Theoldmanlayonthesidewalk,silent.

           "Andhereweare,"mournedMissFerninthedarkeningattic."Oh,whydidn’twestop!Whydidwerunaway?"

           "Shh!"Theybothlistened.

           Therappingdownstairscameagain.

           Whenitstoppedtheysawaboycrossthelawninthedimlight."JustDouglasSpauldingcomeforarideagain."Theybothsighed.

           Thehourspassed;thesunwasgoingdown.

           "We’vebeenuphereallafternoon,"saidRobertatiredly."Wecan’tstayintheatticthreeweekshidingtilleverybodyforgets."

           "We’dstarve."

           "What’llwedo,then?Doyouthinkanyonesawandfollowedus?"Theylookedateachother."No.Nobodysaw."

           Thetownwassilent,allthetinyhousesputtingonlights.Therewasasmellofwateredgrassandcookingsuppersfrombelow.

           "Timetoputonthemeat,"saidMissFern."Frank’llbecominghomeintenminutes."

           "Dowedaregodown?"

           "Frank’dcallthepoliceifhefoundthehouseempty.That’dmakethingsworse."

           Thesunwentswiftly.Nowtheywereonlytwomovingthingsinthemustyblackness."Doyou,"wonderedMissFern,"thinkhe’sdead?"

           "MisterQuartermain?"

           Apause."Yes."

           Robertahesitated."We’llchecktheeveningpaper."

           Theyopenedtheatticdoorandlookedcarefullyatthestepsleadingdown.