Поющие в терновнике

           "You’llneverbeold,Mum,"hesaidcomfortably.

           "Iwishthatweretrue,love,butunfortunatelyitisn’t.I’mbeginningtoneedtheborehead,whichisasuresignofoldage."

           TheywerelyinginthewarmwintersunontowelsspreadovertheDroghedagrass,bytheborehead.Atthefarendofthegreatpoolboilingwaterthunderedandsplashed,thereekofsulphurdriftedandfloatedintonothing.Itwasoneofthegreatwinterpleasures,toswimintheborehead.Alltheachesandpainsofencroachingageweresoothedaway,Meggiethought,andturnedtolieonherback,herheadintheshadeofthelogonwhichsheandFatherRalphhadsatsolongago.Averylongtimeago;shewasunabletoconjureupevenafaintechoofwhatshemusthavefeltwhenRalphhadkissedher.

           ThensheheardDanegetup,andopenedhereyes.Hehadalwaysbeenherbaby,herlovelylittleboy;thoughshehadwatchedhimchangeandgrowwithproprietarypride,shehaddonesowithanimageofthelaughingbabysuperimposedonhismaturingface.Ithadnotyetoccurredtoherthatactuallyhewasnolongerinanywayachild.

           However,themomentofrealizationcametoMeggieatthatinstant,watchinghimstandoutlinedagainstthecrispskyinhisbriefcottonswimsuit.

           MyGod,it’sallover!Thebabyhood,theboyhood.He’saman.Pride,resentment,afemalemeltingatthequick,aterrificconsciousnessofsomeimpendingtragedy,anger,adoration,sadness;alltheseandmoreMeggiefelt,lookingupatherson.