Peter Pan - J.M.BARRIE (English Version)

CHAPTER 2: The Shadow

Chapter 2

THE SHADOW

Mrs. Darling screamed, and, as if in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana  entered,  returned  from  her evening out. She growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt lightly through the   window.   Again   Mrs.   Darling screamed,  this  time  in  distress  for him,  for  she  thought  he  was  killed, and she  ran  down  into  the  street  to look for his little body, but it was not there; and she  looked  up, and  in  the black night she could see nothing but what she thought was a shooting star.

She   returned   to   the   nursery,  and found  Nana  with  something  in  her mouth, which proved to  be  the  boy's shadow.  As  he  leapt  at  the  window Nana had closed it quickly, too late to catch  him,  but  his  shadow  had  not had  time  to  get  out;  slam  went  the window and snapped it off.

You    may    be    sure    Mrs.    Darling examined the shadow carefully, but it was quite the ordinary kind.

Nana had  no doubt of  what  was  the best thing to do with this shadow. She hung  it  out  at  the  window, meaning “He is sure to come back for it;  let  us put  it  where  he  can  get  it  easily without disturbing the children.”

But unfortunately Mrs. Darling could not leave it  hanging  out  at  the  win-dow, it looked so like the washing and lowered the whole tone of the house. She  thought   of   showing   it   to   Mr. Darling, but he was totting up winter great-coats for John and Michael, with a wet towel around his head to keep his brain clear, and it seemed a shame to  trouble  him;  besides,  she  knew exactly  what  he  would  say:  “ It  all comes of having a dog for a nurse.”

She decided to roll the shadow up and put  it  away  carefully   in   a   drawer, until  a  fitting  opportunity  came  for telling her husband. Ah me!

The opportunity  came  a  week  later, on that never-to-be-forgotten Friday. Of course it was a Friday.

“I ought to have been specially careful on  a  Friday,”  she  used  to  say  after-wards to her husband, while perhaps Nana  was  on  the  other  side  of  her, holding her hand.

“No,  no,”  Mr.  Darling  always  said,
“I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling, did it. Mea culpa, mea culpa.” He had had a classical education.

They   sat   thus   night   after   night recalling that fatal Friday, till every detail  of  it  was  stamped  on  their brains and came through on the other side like the faces on a bad coinage.

“If  only  I  had   not  accepted  that invitation to dine at 27,” Mrs. Darling said.

“If only I had not poured my medicine into Nana's bowl,” said Mr. Darling.

“If only I  had  pretended  to  like  the medicine,” was what Nana's wet eyes said.

“My liking for parties, George.”

“My fatal gift of humour, dearest.”

“My  touchiness  about  trifles,  dear master and mistress.”

Then  one  or  more  of  them  would break down altogether ; Nana  at  the thought, “It's true, it's true, they ought not to  have  had  a  dog  for  a  nurse.” Many a time it was Mr. Darling who put the handkerchief to Nana's eyes.

“That fiend!”  Mr. Darling  would  cry, and Nana's  bark  was  the  echo  of  it, but  Mrs.  Darling  never  upbraided Peter;  there  was  something  in  the right-hand corner of her mouth that wanted her not to call Peter names.