"Norton, Mary - Bedknob and Broomstick 01-02 - Bedknob and Broomstick" - читать интересную книгу автора (Norton Mary)

"Could I-" said Carey to the cheerful Agnes, "could we see Miss Price?" She gave a little swallow, as if she felt nervous.
"Miss Price is engaged at the moment," replied Agnes. "Is there a message?"
"Well-" Carey hesitated. How much did Agnes know? She looked around at the others. Charles stepped forward.
"Could you just tell her," he said, "that it didn't work?"
"It didn't work?" repeated Agnes.
"Yes. Just say 'It didn't work.' "
"It didn't work," repeated Agnes to herself, as if memorizing the message. She disappeared down the passage, leaving the front door open. They heard her knock. Then, after a minute, Agnes returned.
"Miss Price says will you step in."
They were shown once more into the sitting room. Each chose a chair and sat on the edge of it.
"I bet she'll be angry," whispered Paul, breaking the silence.
"Shush," said Carey. She looked a little pale.
Suddenly the door opened and Miss Price limped in. Her foot was bandaged, and she wore a carpet slipper, but she was able to walk without a stick. She looked round from face to face. "It didn't work?" she said slowly.
"No," replied Carey, clasping her hands together in her lap.
Miss Price sat down in the center of the sofa. They all stared at each other in silence.
"Are you sure you did it right?"
"Yes, just what you said. We half screwed it on, then turned it a little and wished."
"And what happened?"
"Nothing," said Carey. Paul's eyes, round with accusation, were fixed on Miss Price's face.
"I can't understand it," said Miss Price after a moment. She thought awhile. "Have you got it with you?" she asked.
Yes, Carey had it, in a checked sponge bag. Miss Price drew out the golden ball and gazed at it nonplussed.
"Didn't the bed move at all?"
"Only by Paul bouncing on it."
"It's rusty here at the bottom," said Miss Price.
"It was always like that," Carey told her.
"Well, I don't know." Miss Price stood up, gingerly putting her strained foot to the floor. "I'll take it along and test it."
She made a move toward the door.
"Could we watch you?"
Miss Price turned back slowly. The circle of eager eyes seemed to hold her. They saw her hesitate. "Please, Miss Price!" urged Carey.
"No one has seen my workroom," said Miss Price. "Not even Agnes."
Carey was going to say, "But we're in the secret," but she thought better of it and kept quite quiet. Their longing eyes spoke for all of them.
"Well, I'll just send Agnes off for the groceries and then I'll see."
She went out. And it seemed an eternity before she called them. Eagerly they ran out into the passage. Miss Price was putting on a white overall. In her hand was a key. They followed her down two or three steps into a short dark passage. They heard the key turn in a well-oiled lock. Miss Price went in first, then stood aside.
"Quietly," she said, beckoning them in. "And careful what you touch."
The room must at one time have been a larder. There were marble slabs and wooden shelves above the slabs. The first thing Carey noticed were the glass jars, each with its typewritten label. Miss Price, a spot of proud pink in each cheek, ran a hand along the rows.
"Toads, hares' feet, bats' wings-oh, dear!" She picked up an empty jar to which a few damp balls still clung. "I'm out of newts' eyes!" She peered into the jar before she stood it back upon the shelf; then, taking up a pencil, she made a note on a memo pad that hung upon, the wall. "They're almost impossible to get nowadays," she said with a sigh. "But we mustn't grumble. This is my little filing cabinet where I record results, successful-and unsuccessful, too, I'm afraid. My notebooks . . ."
Carey, leaning forward, saw these were stout exercise books, neatly labeled.
"Spells . . . Charms . . . Incantations," she read aloud.
"And I don't suppose any of you know," said Miss Price brightly, "the difference between a spell and a charm."
"I thought they were the same thing," said Charles.
"A-ha," replied Miss Price darkly, but her face was alight with hidden knowledge. "I only wish a spell were as easy as a charm."
She lifted a spotless piece of butter muslin, and the children peered, not without a shudder, at what appeared to be a greenish slab of meat. It lay symmetrically in a gleaming porcelain dish and smelt faintly of chemicals.
"What is it?" asked Carey.
Miss Price eyed the dish dubiously. "It's poisoned dragon's liver," she said uncertainly.
"Oh," said Carey politely.
Paul pushed up close. "Did you poison the dragon, Miss Price? Or just the liver?" he added.
"Well," admitted the truthful Miss Price, "as a matter of fact, it came ready prepared. It's part of the equipment."
"It all looks very hygienic," ventured Carey timidly.
"My dear Carey," said Miss Price reprovingly, "we have progressed a little since the Middle Ages. Method and prophylactics have revolutionized modern witchcraft."
Carey felt Miss Price was quoting from a book, and she longed to know a little more. "Could I just see Lesson I?" she asked.
Miss Price glanced quickly at a pile of folders on an upper shelf, and then she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Carey. This course is absolutely confidential. 'Any infringement of this regulation,' " she quoted, " 'entails a fine of not less than two hundred pounds and condemns the offender to chronic, progressively recurring, attacks of Cosmick Creepus.' "