Маленькие женщины / Little Women. Уровень 3

You shan't stir a step, so you may just stay where you are,” scolded Jo, crosser than ever, having just pricked her finger in her hurry.

Sitting on the floor with one boot on, Amy began to cry and Meg to reason with her, when Laurie called from below, and the two girls hurried down, leaving their sister wailing. Just as the party was setting out, Amy called over the banisters in a threatening tone, “You'll be sorry for this, Jo March, see if you ain't.”

When they got home, they found Amy reading in the parlor.

She assumed an injured air[19 - assumed an injured air – приняла обиженный вид] as they came in, never lifted her eyes from her book, or asked a single question. Perhaps curiosity might have conquered resentment, if Beth had not been there to inquire and receive a glowing description of the play. Going up to put away her best hat, Jo's first look was toward the bureau. Everything was in its place and after a hasty glance into her various closets, bags, and boxes, Jo decided that Amy had forgiven and forgotten her wrongs.

There Jo was mistaken, for next day she made a discovery which produced a tempest. Meg, Beth, and Amy were sitting together, late in the afternoon, when Jo burst into the room, looking excited and demanding breathlessly, “Has anyone taken my book?”

Meg and Beth said, “No.” at once, and looked surprised. Amy poked the fire and said nothing. Jo saw her color rise and was down upon her in a minute.

“Amy, you've got it!”

“No, I haven't.”

“That's a fib!” cried Jo, taking her by the shoulders, and looking fierce enough to frighten a much braver child than Amy.

“Scold as much as you like, you'll never see your silly old book again,” cried Amy, getting excited in her turn.

“Why not?”

“I burned it up.”

“What! My little book I was so fond of, and worked over, and meant to finish before Father got home? Have you really burned it?” said Jo, turning very pale, while her eyes kindled and her hands clutched Amy nervously.

“Yes, I did! I told you I'd make you pay for being so cross yesterday, and I have, so…”

Amy got no farther, for Jo's hot temper mastered her, and she shook Amy till her teeth chattered in her head, crying in a passion of grief and anger…

“You wicked, wicked girl! I never can write it again, and I'll never forgive you as long as I live.