Been. Often his jaw was crooked because he had a habit of

Feeling out the sore new teeth with his tongue.

'Listen here, George,' she said. 'Do you love me?'

'Sure. I love you O.K.'

It was a hot, sunny morning during the last week of school.

George was dressed and he lay on the floor doing his number

Work. His dirty little fingers squeezed the pencil tight and he

Kept breaking the lead point. When he was finished she held him

By the shoulders and looked hard into his face. 'I mean a lot. A

whole lot.'

'Lemme go. Sure I love you. Ain't you my sister?'

I know. But suppose I wasn't your sister. Would you love me

then?'

George backed away. He had run out of shirts and wore a dirty

Pullover sweater. His wrists were thin and blue-veined. The

Sleeves of the sweater had stretched so that they hung loose and

Made his hands look very small.

If you wasn't my sister then I might not know you. So I couldn't

love you.'

•But if you did know me and I wasn't your sister.'

*But how do you know I would? You can't prove it.'

•Well, just take it for granted and pretend.'

I reckon I would like you all right. But I still say you can't

prove-------'

Prove! You got that word on the brain. Ptove and trick.

Everything is either a trick or it's got to be proved. I can't stand you, George Kelly. I hate you.'

'O.K. Then I don't like you none either.'

He crawled down under the bed for something.

What you want under there? You better leave my things alone.

Дата добавления: 2015-08-27