Поющие в терновнике

           UnabletogreetthisMeggienaturally,hestifflyindicatedachair."Pleasesitdown."

           "Thankyou,"shesaid,equallystilted.

           Itwasonlywhenshewasseatedandhecouldgazedownuponherwholepersonthathenoticedhowvisiblyswollenherfeetandankleswere.

           "Meggie!HaveyouflownallthewaythroughfromAustraliawithoutbreakingyourjourney?What’sthematter?"

           "Yes,Ididflystraightthrough,"shesaid."Forthepasttwenty-ninehoursI’vebeensittinginplanesbetweenGillyandRome,withnothingtodoexceptstareoutthewindowattheclouds,andthink."Hervoicewasharsh,cold.

           "What’sthematter?"herepeatedimpatiently,anxiousandfearful.

           Sheliftedhergazefromherfeetandlookedathimsteadily.

           Therewassomethingawfulinhereyes;somethingsodarkandchillingthattheskinonthebackofhisneckcrawledandautomaticallyheputhishanduptostrokeit.

           "Daneisdead,"saidMeggie.

           Hishandslipped,floppedlikearagdoll’sintohisscarletlapashesankintoachair."Dead?"heaskedslowly."Danedead?"

           "Yes.HewasdrownedsixdaysagoinCrete,rescuingsomewomenfromthesea."

           Heleanedforward,puthishandsoverhisface."Dead?"sheheardhimsayindistinctly."Danedead?Mybeautifulboy!Hecan’tbedead!Dane—hewastheperfectpriest—allthatIcouldn’tbe.WhatIlackedhehad."Hisvoicebroke."Healwayshadit—thatwaswhatweallrecognized—allofuswhoaren’tperfectpriests.