Мор - ученик смерти

           HAVEYOUEVERBITTENARED-HOTICECUBE?

           ’No,sir,’saidMort.

           CURRY’SLIKETHAT.

           ’Sir?’

           YES?

           Mortswallowedhard.’Excuseme,sir,butmydadsaid,ifIdon’tunderstand,Iwastoaskquestions,sir?’

           VERYCOMMENDABLE,saidDeath.Hesetoffdownasidestreet,thecrowdspartinginfrontofhimlikerandommolecules.

           ’Well,sir,Ican’thelpnoticing,thepointis,well,theplainfactofit,sir,is—’

           OUTWITHIT,BOY.

           ’Howcanyoueatthings,sir?’

           Deathpulledupshort,sothatMortwalkedintohim.Whentheboystartedtospeakhewavedhimintosilence.Heappearedtobelisteningtosomething.

           THEREARETIMES,YOUKNOW,hesaid,halftohimself,WHENIGETREALLYUPSET.

           Heturnedononeheelandsetoffdownanalleywayathighspeed,hiscloakflyingoutbehindhim.Thealleywoundbetweendarkwallsandsleepingbuildings,notsomuchathoroughfareasameanderinggap.