Поющие в терновнике

           Thetaxidrewup;toAnne’ssurprisethedrivergotoutandwenttothebackdoortoopenitforhispassenger.JoeCastiglione,whoranDunny’ssoletaxi,wasn’tusuallygiventosuchcourtesies.

           "Himmelhoch,YourGrace,"hesaid,bowingdeeply.

           Amaninalong,flowingblacksoutanegotout,apurplegrosgrainsashabouthiswaist.Asheturned,AnnethoughtforadazedmomentthatLukeO’Neillwasplayingsomeelaboratetrickonher.Thenshesawthatthiswasafardifferentman,agoodtenyearsolderthanLuke.MyGod!shethoughtasthegracefulfiguremountedherstepstwoatatime.He’sthehandsomestchapI’veeverseen!Anarchbishop,noless!WhatdoesaCatholicarchbishopwantwithapairofoldLutheranslikeLuddieandme?

           "Mrs.Mueller?"heasked,smilingdownatherwithkind,aloofblueeyes.Asifhehadseenmuchhewouldgiveanythingnottohaveseen,andhadmanagedtostopfeelinglongago.

           "Yes,I’mAnneMueller."

           "I’mArchbishopRalphdeBricassart,HisHoliness’sLegateinAustralia.IunderstandyouhaveaMrs.LukeO’Neillstayingwithyou?"

           "Yes,sir."Ralph?Ralph?WasthisRalph?

           "I’maveryoldfriendofhers.IwonderifImightseeher,please?"

           "Well,I’msureshe’dbedelighted,Archbishop"—no,thatwasn’tright,onedidn’tsayArchbishop,onesaidYourGrace,likeJoeCastiglione—"undermorenormalcircumstances,butatthemomentMeggie’sinlabor,andhavingaveryhardtime."