Ходячий замок
Chapter 13
Sosheturneddownthestreet.
TheWitchoftheWastewascomingupittowardsher.
HowSophierecognizedtheWitchwouldbehardtosay.Herfacewasdifferent.Herhair,insteadofbeingorderlychestnutcurls,wasaripplingmassofred,hangingalmosttoherwaist,andshewasdressedinfloatingfluttersofauburnandpaleyellow.Verycoolandlovelyshelooked.Sophieknewheratonce.Shealmoststopped,butnotquite.
There’snoreasonsheshouldrememberme,Sophiethought.Imustbejustoneofhundredsofpeopleshe’senchanted.AndSophiestumpedboldlyon,thumpingherstickonthecobblesandremindingherself,incaseoftrouble,thatMrs.Pentstemmonhadsaidthatsamestickhadbecomeapowerfulobject.
Thatwasanothermistake.TheWitchcamefloatingupthelittlestreet,smiling,twirlingherparasol,followedbytwosulky-lookingpageboysinorangevelvet.WhenshecamelevelwithSophie,shestopped,andtawnyperfumefilledSophie’snose.“Why,it’sMissHatter!”theWitchsaid,laughing.“Ineverforgetaface,particularlyifI’vemadeitmyself!Whatareyoudoinghere,dressedupallsofine?Ityou’rethinkingofcallingonthatMrs.Pentstemmon,youcansaveyourselfthetrouble.Theoldbiddy’sdead.”
“Dead?”saidSophie.Shehadasillyimpulsetoadd,Butshewasaliveanhourago!Andshestoppedherself,becausedeathislikethat:peoplearealiveuntiltheydie.
“Yes.Dead,”saidtheWitch.“SherefusedtotellmewheresomeonewasthatIwanttofind.Shesaid,‘Overmydeadbody!’soItookheratherword.
