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

worked steadily all afternoon. The mortar chips filled the space they had opened, and white dust filmed
their faces when they tried to blow it out. They gpt in each other's way and scraped mortar in each
other's hair, and the space around the stone grew deeper and deeper. It seemed to hang suspended in its
place in a mortar of air. Alexander stopped finally, after a long silent attack. He rubbed his face on his
sleeve, and sweat and dust made a paste on his shirt.
"There's an end to it somewhere. Everything has an end. I was thinking: when it finally becomes un-
glued, we should have something underneath itтАФ cardboard or a thin boardтАФso we can pull it out more
easily. Preferably something on wheels. Though I don't know yet how we're going to lift it down, once
we've got it loose."
Bruce looked around vaguely. His face was a stiff white mask. 'I'll flatten one of Mrs. Brewster's book
boxes." He dropped his tools and stretched. Carol sat down on the floor and leaned her head against the
stones. The drilling sounded monotonous and familiar as the buzzing of an insect. Bruce began to
unpack one of the boxes beneath the table, his hands moving as though he were half-asleep. The church
bells tolled the hour.
"Four o'clock," Alexander said. He yawned. "Four hours without aтАФ" His voice stopped. They heard the
clink of his tools on the stone.
A man stood beside him with a drawn sword in his
hand. His head turned as though he had heard a sound; his grim eyes rested briefly on Alexander's face.
Alexander stared back at him, expressionless, motionless. Then, an instant before the man turned toward
him, he jerked himself away in one quick turn. The man passed through the stones where he had stood.
"You saw himтАФ" Carol whispered.

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Alexander sat down beside her. She heard the shaking of his breath. "He would have walked straight
through meтАФthrough my private bonesтАФ" He ran his hands down his face. "Blimey, there's another one
тАФ"
The girl came toward him through the sunlight, her skirt whispering softly in the silence. She turned
before she reached the stones and looked down at Alexander.
"Edward. Come," she said. And then she walked through the wall, her collar melting into the stone they
had been chipping loose. As she passed, the front of the stone settled downward with a small decisive
thud.
Alexander closed his mouth. He looked at Carol wordlessly. Then he looked at Bruce.
"Did you see that?"
тАЬYes.тАЭ
"I'm glad. When was the first time you saw them?" "Last winter, sometime after we moved inтАФI don't
remember exactly whenтАФI saw the man. I didn't wait
to see the girl."
"And nobody else saw him until Carol came? Nobody knew he was there but you? You never told
anyone?"
"No." He took a stack of books out of the box. He shrugged slightly. "I thoughtтАФI didn't know what to
think. Then Carol came and she saw him, too, and then finally we saw the girl, and things began to fall
into place. And now you've seen her."
"And she's seen me."
"It looked like it."
"I think," Carol said, "she's like you. She doesn't trust older people."
Bruce took the last book out of the box. He got a penknife out of his pocket and began to cut down the
corners. "It's hard to know," he said finally. He lifted his head. "Rot. The drilling stopped. I wanted to
get that stone out today."