Мор - ученик смерти

           ’Andhearme?Youcanhearme,canyou?’

           ’Loudandclear.Yes.Everysyllabletinklingintoplace.Noproblems.’

           ’ThenwouldyoubesurprisedifItoldyouthatno-oneelseinthiscitycan?’

           ’Exceptme?’

           Kelisnorted.’Andyourdoorknocker.’

           Cutwellpulledoutachairandsatdown.Hesquirmedalittle.Athoughtfulexpressionpassedoverhisface.Hestoodup,reachedbehindhimandproducedaflatreddishmasswhichmighthaveoncebeenhalfapizza.Hestaredatitsorrowfully.

           ’I’vebeenlookingforthatallmorning,wouldyoubelieve?’hesaid.’ItwasanAil-Onwithextrapeppers,too.’Hepickedsadlyatthesquashedshape,andsuddenlyrememberedKeli.

           ’Gosh,sorry,’hesaid,’where’smymanners?Whateverwillyouthinkofme?Here.Haveananchovy.Please.’

           ’Haveyoubeenlisteningtome?’snappedKeli.

           ’Doyoufeelinvisible?Inyourself,Imean?’saidGutwell,indistinctly.

           ’Ofcoursenot.Ijustfeelangry.SoIwantyoutotellmyfortune.’

           ’Well,Idon’tknowaboutthat,itallsoundsrathermedicaltomeand—’

           ’Icanpay.’

           ’It’sillegal,yousee,’saidCutwellwretchedly.’TheoldkingexpresslyforbadefortunetellinginStoLat.Hedidn’tlikewizardsmuch.’