Citation de Nastasia-B
Un rouge-gorge, perché sur la branche tremblante d'un cerisier sauvage, se mit à chanter éperdument. Wakefield épaula un fusil imaginaire, et visa.
- Pan ! cria-t-il.
Mais le rouge-gorge continua sa chanson, comme s'il n'avait pas été touché.
- Voyons, se plaignit Wakefield, tu ne sais donc pas que tu es mort.
[...]
Wakefield se recoucha, la tête sur le bras. [...] Il enfonça une main dans la poche de son pantalon et tâta ses nouvelles billes d'agate, tout en comptant. Un délicieux engourdissement s'emparait doucement de lui. Le souvenir agréable de son excellent petit déjeuner bien chaud le remplissait de paix. Il se demandait s'il était toujours dans son estomac ou s'il s'était déjà transformé en sang, en os et en muscles. Un tel déjeuner doit faire beaucoup de bien. Il serra la main du bras posé sous sa tête pour tâter ses muscles. Oui, elle était plus forte, aucun doute là-dessus. S'il continuait à prendre des déjeuners de ce genre, le jour arriverait où il ne supporterait plus aucune insolence de Finch ni d'un autre de ses frères, même de Renny.
(A robin, perched on a swinging branch of a wild cherry-tree, burst into song. It filled the air with its rich throaty notes, tossing them on to the bright sunshine like ringing coins. Wakefield held an imaginary gun to his shoulder and took aim.
" Bang ! " he shouted, but the robin went on singing just as though it had not been shot.
" Look here ", complained Wakefield, " don't you know when you're dead ? "
[...]
Wakefield lay down again, his head on his arm. [...] He pushed one hand into the pocket of his knickers and fingered his new agate marbles as he counted. A delicious drowsiness stole over him. A tender recollection of the lovely warm breakfeast he had eaten filled him with peace. He wondered if it were still in his stomach, or had already changed into blood and bone and muscle. Such a breakfeast should do a great deal of good. He clenched the hand belonging to the arm stretched under his head to test its muscle. Yes, it felt stronger — no doubt about that. If he kept on eating such breakfeasts, the day would come when he would not stand any nonsense from Finch or from any of his brothers, even up to Renny.)
- Pan ! cria-t-il.
Mais le rouge-gorge continua sa chanson, comme s'il n'avait pas été touché.
- Voyons, se plaignit Wakefield, tu ne sais donc pas que tu es mort.
[...]
Wakefield se recoucha, la tête sur le bras. [...] Il enfonça une main dans la poche de son pantalon et tâta ses nouvelles billes d'agate, tout en comptant. Un délicieux engourdissement s'emparait doucement de lui. Le souvenir agréable de son excellent petit déjeuner bien chaud le remplissait de paix. Il se demandait s'il était toujours dans son estomac ou s'il s'était déjà transformé en sang, en os et en muscles. Un tel déjeuner doit faire beaucoup de bien. Il serra la main du bras posé sous sa tête pour tâter ses muscles. Oui, elle était plus forte, aucun doute là-dessus. S'il continuait à prendre des déjeuners de ce genre, le jour arriverait où il ne supporterait plus aucune insolence de Finch ni d'un autre de ses frères, même de Renny.
(A robin, perched on a swinging branch of a wild cherry-tree, burst into song. It filled the air with its rich throaty notes, tossing them on to the bright sunshine like ringing coins. Wakefield held an imaginary gun to his shoulder and took aim.
" Bang ! " he shouted, but the robin went on singing just as though it had not been shot.
" Look here ", complained Wakefield, " don't you know when you're dead ? "
[...]
Wakefield lay down again, his head on his arm. [...] He pushed one hand into the pocket of his knickers and fingered his new agate marbles as he counted. A delicious drowsiness stole over him. A tender recollection of the lovely warm breakfeast he had eaten filled him with peace. He wondered if it were still in his stomach, or had already changed into blood and bone and muscle. Such a breakfeast should do a great deal of good. He clenched the hand belonging to the arm stretched under his head to test its muscle. Yes, it felt stronger — no doubt about that. If he kept on eating such breakfeasts, the day would come when he would not stand any nonsense from Finch or from any of his brothers, even up to Renny.)
