"Duncan,.Lois.-.A.Gift.Of.Magic" - читать интересную книгу автора (Duncan Lois)

Nancy opened her notebook and fished in her book bag for a pen. There was nothing frightening to her about a quiz in geography, no matter how much of a surprise it was. The unit they were studying was about Europe, and the European continent was as familiar to her as her own backyard. She had read the unit chapter by chapter during the first week of school, simply for pleasure.
Now she straightened in her seat, waiting for the first question.
Miss Green referred to the sheet of paper on her desk.
"Name the countries of Europe," she read, "in the order of size."
Nancy bent to her paper. This was easy. She pictured each country as she listed it, as though reviewing the memory of old friends. She gave a special little smile as she reached Switzerland, which had always been her favorite. She thought of the greenness, the high white peaks of the Alps, the sound of cowbells ringing clear and soft through the sweet mountain air.
She completed the list and sat quietly, waiting for the next question. Everyone else was still writing. Faces around her were wrinkled into scowls of perplexity.
Honestly, Nancy thought, how could they have trouble with a question like that!
It seemed like hours before Miss Green picked up her sheet again: "Name all the bodies of water which touch the European coastline."
Another simple list, not even a long one. Quickly Nancy listed the names of the gulfs and seas. She wondered idly how Kirby had done with that one. She had been to all the same places that Nancy had, but to Kirby the whole of the continent was composed of ballet companiesЧthe Royal Ballet in England, the State Ballet in Germany, the Opera Ballet and the Grand Ballet de Monte Carlo in France. Whether or not she had ever noticed the bodies of water was anyone's guess.
She finished her list and went on to the next question: "Name the capitals of all the countries." Another easy one; you couldn't visit a place without knowing its capital.
The fourth question was to name the languages; the fifth, the principal industries.
So engrossed was she hi trying to remember these, that she was not aware of the figure that had stopped by her desk until Miss Green spoke.
"Nancy Garrett, may I please see your paper?"
Nancy jumped, her pen bounding on the paper.
"I haven't finished yet," she said. "I'm only on the fifth question."
"So I see." Miss Green bent over to inspect the paper. "Can you explain exactly how that happens to be?"
"Why, IЧIЧjust haven't gotten any further. I don't guess anyone else has either." Nancy glanced up at the teacher hi bewilderment.
"I don't imagine they have," Miss Green said coldly. "Especially since I have only read three questions."
"You have?" Thinking back, Nancy could not remember the exact wording, but she was certain that she had heard five questions read.
"Maybe I'm wrong," she said. "Maybe I just thought you asked more questions."
Even to her own ears it sounded absurd.
"No, Nancy, you did not imagine these questions," Miss Green said. "They are exactly the questions that I asked the previous classes. I would be very interested in learning how you knew what they would be."
There was a long silence. All around them, heads were raised and turned in their direction. Thirty pens were held, suspended, over thirty sheets of paper as thirty students waited to hear Nancy's explanation.
"IЧI don't know," Nancy said slowly. "I just sort ofЧknew. I do that sometimes. I mean, I guess things and they turn out to be right."
"How very convenient," Miss Green said.
There was a snicker from the far side of the room. Two girls exchanged knowing glances. A boy with a seat across the aisle cleared his throat.
"Nancy Garrett." Miss Green repeated the name thoughtfully. "Don't you have a sister Kirby? Isn't she in my third-period class?"
"Yes, ma'am," Nancy said. She paused and then suddenly the significance of the question came through to her. "You think Kirby told me the questions? But she didn't, honestly. Kirby would never do a thing like that."
"Did you see your sister during lunch period?" Miss Green asked.
"Yes," Nancy admitted. "We ate together, but we didn't talk about geography. We didn't talk about anything much. We just ate our sandwiches and we were both busy thinking."
Miss Green picked up Nancy's paper from the desk.
"I do not put up with cheating in this class," she said darkly. "I realize that it can be difficult for a child of your age to keep up with an eighth-grade class, but no problems are ever solved by dishonesty."
"I didn't cheat!" Nancy exclaimed. "I don't have to cheat! I know the answers!"
"And evidently you know the questions as well." There was no sympathy in Miss Green's voice. "I would like to see you after school this afternoon in the counselor's office. I think that Mr. Duncan should have an opportunity to hear your explanation. I will have your sister paged over the speaker. We will see her there also."
"But Kirby can't stay after school," Nancy said. "She dances. She won't come. I know she won't."
"If she doesn't," Miss Green said, "you will both be in even more trouble than you are right now."


5

When Kirby arrived at the counselor's office she had only to take one look at Nancy's face to know that something bad had happened. Nancy's eyes were hard with a frosted, blue look, and her chin was thrust out in a way that her sister knew very well.
She's angry, Kirby thought. No, she isn't just angry, she's absolutely furious.
Aloud she said, "I can't stay long. I have a dancing lesson at four o'clock. I've already missed the three-twenty bus by coming here, and I simply have to catch the one at three-forty."
Mr. Duncan was seated behind a wide-topped desk. He looked older somehow here than he had the night their mother had introduced him to them in their own living room. His face was serious and thoughtful, and Kirby thought, whatever this is about, he's going to be fair about it.
However, it was Miss Green, glaring furiously from a chair by the window, who started talking.
"I'm afraid your dancing lesson is less important than the subject we have to discuss," she said firmly.
Miss Green's face was serious also, but there was nothing thoughtful about it. She had the kind of face that was Kirby's least favoriteЧnot a straight-lined one like Nancy's or gentle and rounded like their mother's, but a tight, prissed little face that looked as though it had dried up and withered. Until this moment, Kirby had not noticed how unpleasant it was.
Now, when she answered, Kirby made her voice as sweet as possible.
"I do have to make my lesson," she said, "and my dancing is important. I will be happy to give you ten minutes, though, if I can help you. What is the problem?"
Miss Green's face prissed even more until it looked as though her mouth might never get back into shape again. It was as though she could not believe that anyone as soft-looking as Kirby could have spoken in such a way.