"Terry Pratchett. A Hat Full Of Sky " - читать интересную книгу автораwhere you could get comfortable among the boxes of fruit and rolls of cloth.
Tiffany sat on the back of the cart, her old boots dangling over the edge, swaying backwards and forwards as the cart lurched away on the rough road. Miss Tick sat beside her, her black dress soon covered in chalk dust to the knees. Tiffany noticed that Roland didnt get back on his horse until the cart was nearly out of sight. And she knew Miss Tick. By now she would be just bursting to ask a question, because witches hate not knowing things. And, sure enough, when the village was left behind, Miss Tick said, after a lot of shifting and clearing her throat: Arent you going to open it? Open what? said Tiffany, not looking at her. He gave you a present, said Miss Tick. I thought you were examining an interesting stone, Miss Tick, said Tiffany accusingly. Well, it was only fairly interesting, said Miss Tick, completely unembarrassed. So . . . are you? Ill wait until later, said Tiffany. She didnt want a discussion about Roland at this point or, really, at all. She didnt actually dislike him. Shed found him in the land of the Queen of the Fairies and had sort of rescued him, although he had been unconscious most of the time. A sudden meeting with the Nac Mac Feegle when theyre feeling edgy can do that to a person. Of course, without anyone actually nine-year-old girl armed with a frying pan couldnt possibly have rescued a thirteen-year-old boy whod got a sword. Tiffany hadnt minded that. It stopped people asking too many questions she didnt want to answer or even know how to. But hed taken to . . . hanging around. She kept accidentally running into him on walks more often than was really possible, and he always seemed to be at the same village events she went to. He was always polite, but she couldnt stand the way he kept looking like a spaniel that had been kicked. Admittedly - and it took some admitting - he was a lot less of a twit than he had been. On the other hand, there had been such of lot of twit to begin with. And then she thought, Horse, and wondered why until she realized that her eyes had been watching the landscape while her brain stared at the past. . . Ive never seen that before, said Miss Tick. Tiffany welcomed it as an old friend. The Chalk rose out of the plains quite suddenly on this side of the hills. There was a little valley cupped into the fall of the down, and there was a carving in the curve it made. Turf had been cut away in long flowing lines so that the bare chalk made the shape of an animal. Its the White Horse, said Tiffany. Why do they call it that? said Miss Tick. Tiffany looked at her. Because the chalk is white? she suggested, trying not to suggest that Miss Tick was being a bit dense. |
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