sentir tan feliz de estar viva... es un mundo muy interesante. No sería ni la mitad de interesante si lo supiéramos todo sobre todo, ¿verdad? Ya no habría margen para la imaginación, ¿verdad? ¿Pero estoy hablando demasiado? La gente siempre me dice que lo hago. ¿Preferirías que no hablara? Si me lo dices, me callaré. Puedo callarme cuando me lo propongo, aunque me cueste.
Matthew, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself. Like most quiet folks he liked talkative people when they were willing to do the talking themselves and did not expect him to keep up his end of it.
But he had never expected to enjoy the society of a little girl. Women were bad enough in all conscience, but little girls were worse. He detested the way they had of sidling past him timidly, with sidewise glances, as if they expected him to gobble them up at a mouthful if they ventured to say a word. This was the Avonlea type of well-bred little girl.
But this freckled witch was very different, and although he found it rather difficult for his slower intelligence to keep up with her brisk mental processes he thought that he “kind of liked her chatter.” So he said as shyly as usual:
“Oh, puedes hablar todo lo que quieras. No me importa”.
“Oh, me alegro muchísimo. Sé que usted y yo vamos a llevarnos de maravilla. Es un alivio tan grande poder hablar cuando una tiene ganas y que no le digan a una que los niños deben verse y no oírse. Me lo habrán dicho un millón de veces, si no más. Y la gente se ríe de mí porque uso palabras grandes. Pero si tienes grandes ideas, tienes que usar palabras grandes para expresarlas, ¿no es así?”
—Vaya, eso parece razonable —dijo Matthew.