"Jones, Diana Wynne - Chrestomanci 3 - 1982 - Witch Week" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Diana Wynne)

in front of a lady. "I don't like to say it in front of you. "
"I was brought up to be sorry for witches," Miss Hodge remarked calmly.
"Oh, so was I! We all are," Mr. Crossley said hastily. "I just wondered how I
should handle itЧ"
Miss Hodge lined up another stack of books. "I think it's just a silly joke,"
she said. "Ignore it. Aren't you supposed to be teaching 4C?"
"Yes, yes. I suppose I am," Mr. Crossley agreed miserably. And he was forced to
hurry away without Miss Hodge's having looked at him once.
Miss Hodge thoughtfully squared off another stack of books, until she was sure
Mr. Crossley had gone. Then she smoothed her smooth hair and hurried away
upstairs to find Mr. Wentworth.
Mr. Wentworth, as deputy head, had a study where he wrestled with the schedules
and various other problems Miss Cadwallader gave him. When Miss Hodge tapped on
the door, he was wrestling with a particularly fierce one. There were seventy
people in the school orchestra. Fifty of these were also in the school choir and
twenty of those fifty were in the school play. Thirty boys in the orchestra were
in various football teams, and twenty of the girls played hockey for the school.
At least a third played basketball as well. The volleyball team were all in the
school play. Problem: How do you arrange rehearsals and practices without asking
most people to be in three places at once? Mr. Wentworth rubbed the thin patch
at the back of his hair despairingly. "Come in," he said. He saw the bright,
smiling, anxious face of Miss Hodge, but his mind was not on her at all.
"So spiteful of someone, and so awful if it's true!" he heard Miss Hodge saying.
And then, merrily, "But I think I have a scheme to discover who wrote the
noteЧit must be someone in 6B. Can we put our heads together and work it out,
Mr. Wentworth?" She put her own head on one side, invitingly.
Mr. Wentworth had no idea what she was talking about. He scratched the place
where his hair was going and stared at her. Whatever it was, it had all the
marks of a scheme that ought to be squashed. "People only write anonymous notes
to make themselves feel important," he said experimentally. "You mustn't take
them seriously."
"But it's the perfect scheme!" Miss Hodge protested. "If I can explainЧ"
Not squashed yet, whatever it is, thought Mr. Wentworth. "No. Just tell me the
exact words of this note," he said.
Miss Hodge instantly became crushed and shocked. "But it's awful!" Her voice
fell to a dramatic whisper. "It says someone in 6B is a witch!"
Mr. Wentworth realized that his instinct had been right. "What did I tell you?"
he said heartily. "That's the sort of stuff you can only ignore, Miss Hodge."
"But someone in 6B has a very sick mind!" Miss Hodge whispered.
Mr. Wentworth considered 6B, including his own son, Brian. "They all have," he
said. "Either they'll grow out of it, or we'll see them all riding around on
broomsticks in the sixth grade." Miss Hodge started back. She was genuinely
shocked at this coarse language. But she hastily made herself laugh. She could
see it was a joke. "Take no notice," said Mr. Wentworth. "Ignore it, Miss
Hodge." And he went back to his problem with some relief.
Miss Hodge went back to her stacks of books, not as crushed as Mr. Wentworth
supposed she was. Mr. Wentworth had made a joke to her. He had never done that
before. She must be getting somewhere. ForЧand this was a fact not known to
Theresa Mullett or Estelle GreenЧMiss Hodge intended to marry Mr. Wentworth. He
was a widower. When Miss Cadwallader retired, Miss Hodge was sure Mr. Wentworth