"Patricia A. McKillip - The House on Parchment Street" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKillip Patricia A)

when Carol saw

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the wax statue of a small old woman in black, with spectacles on her nose and a fringed shawl about her
shoulders. She looked oddly out of place among the richly dressed dignitaries of past ages. "Who is
that?"
Uncle Harold smiled. "That is Madame Tussaud. She made that statue of herself over a hundred years
ago. It was she who made the first statues for this museum."
They had supper, and then Uncle Harold took them to a play. The play had a prince dressed in mournful
black who saw an armed ghost, and the ghost spoke of foul murder by poison and would not stay past
dawn. Carol watched quietly until the ghost vanished; then she leaned over and whispered in Bruce's ear,
"Maybe the man with the sword murdered Edward."
"Sh." After a moment he whispered back, "Maybe Edward killed the man with the sword." "Maybe the
girlтАФ"
"ShтАФ" said someone behind, and they quieted. "One may smile and smile," said the prince, "and be a
villain."
The play ended with his death. Soldiers came to carry his dead body off-stage, and then the lights went
on, and people clapped, and he came back on his own feet, smiling and bowing. Carol looked at Bruce.
"Do you remember the part where Hamlet was with his mother, and he saw the ghost, but his mother
couldn't see it?"
"It's only a play."
"I know, but it happened to him. And it happened to us. I wonder why ghosts do that."
Bruce yawned. "I don't know. I expect he was imagining the whole thing."
"He was not." She stood up and followed Uncle Harold out.
"Did you enjoy it?" he said.
"Yes. But I didn't expect everyone to die in the end."
Uncle Harold found the car keys and unlocked the car. "In Shakespeare's day they rather enjoyed stages
full of dead bodies."
"Well I enjoyed it, too. But it was still sad."
They drove around the city the next day and visited great ancient buildings with a bewildering array of
names: the Tower of London, the Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace. When they got to
Westminister Cathedral, their feet began to hurt. Carol looked at it, shifting from one foot to another. It
was a vast building, striped red and white, with round arched windows, and domes, and many-sided
towers. "It's so bigтАж ." Carol said. It ran the length of the city block. Uncle Harold laughed.
"All right. It can wait for another trip. You've seen enough tombs for one day."
They had some lunch, and then started back. Carol slept most of the way. She woke finally and saw in
the distance a small town of grey stone houses and
outlying farms and a church on a hill in the middle of it, the grey spire rising clear of the trees.
"We're home," Uncle Harold said cheerfully. And beside Carol, Bruce slouched lower in the seat, his
hands in his pockets, and she heard the slow whisper of his sigh.
VI.
A GREEN VAN HAD TAKEN UNCLE HAROLD'S PARKING
place in front of the gate.
"What on earthтАФ" Uncle Harold said. He parked behind it. The closed doors of the van said in bright
orange letters: MIDDLETON CIVIL SEWAGE. "Is something wrong with our plumbing?"
"Perhaps someone broke a water pipe," Aunt Catherine said. "I don't think the city would be interested

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