- زمان مطالعه 2 دقیقه
- سطح متوسط
دانلود اپلیکیشن «زیبوک»
این فصل را میتوانید به بهترین شکل و با امکانات عالی در اپلیکیشن «زیبوک» بخوانید
متن انگلیسی فصل
Walking back the way he had come, Angus could see police officers clustered around the police station on St Leonard’s Street. Ross and Susie were there, too. They spotted him with the dog and a small group came to meet him a few steps away from the station. The dog started whining, then began barking again.
“How’d you find her? We’ve been looking everywhere!” asked a young officer, taking the lead from Angus. The dog pulled on it.
“Well, I was just walking through Dumbiedykes, when I…” Angus didn’t get any further, because everyone turned to watch as a car drew up. An elegant woman, her face set tight in disbelief, got out.
Susie muttered, “That must be the wife.”
Beside them the dog’s barking grew louder and it pulled at the lead. Taking the officer by surprise, it once again got free and ran in the direction of the woman. She turned and was greeted by outstretched paws, a wagging tail and silence…
Angus frowned slightly but before he could articulate his thoughts - the quietness of the dog around somebody it knew - the others were patting him on the back, “Well done Angus” and wandering off, back to their duties.
“I’ll give you a call later, thanks for your help,” Ross shouted over his shoulder and was gone.
Angus stuck his hands, now free of a lead, in his pockets, his jacket slung over the crook of his arm, shrugged and turned towards home.
He was hungry so he popped into a cafe for something to eat before walking over the Meadows. As he crossed the grass on his way to Jawbone Walk, he spotted the red haired girl from earlier. The intensity of the colour combined with the emerald green dress she was wearing made her unmistakeable.
She was standing at the edge of the path talking to a young man. Something in her body language - her shoulders hunched, one arm held tight around herself - said here was someone who was unhappy. There was something else about her posture that reminded Angus of something but he couldn’t pinpoint what.
As he walked past them he caught bits of what they were saying. From her:
“… can’t believe he’s gone. What am I going to do?”
“You’re well rid of …”
When he was safely past them, Angus stopped and turned back, but they had also started walking, going up the hill towards George IV Bridge, her long red hair moving in rhythm to her step.
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