Никогде
Two
"Mine,Ibelieve,"saidthemarquisdeCarabas.Heworeahugedandyishblackcoatthatwasnotquiteafrockcoatnorexactlyatrenchcoat,andhighblackboots,and,beneathhiscoat,raggedyclothes.Hiseyesburnedwhiteinanextremelydarkface.Andhegrinnedwhiteteeth,momentarily,asifataprivatejokeofhisown,andbowedtoRichard,andsaid,"DeCarabas,atyourservice,andyouare...?"
"Um,"saidRichard."Er.Um."
"YouareRichardMayhew,theyoungmanwhorescuedourwoundedDoor.Howisshenow?"
"Er.She’sokay.Herarm’sstillabit—"
"Herrecoverytimewillundoubtedlyastonishusall.Herfamilyhadremarkablerecuperativepowers.It’sawonderanyonemanagedtokillthematall,isn’tit?"ThemanwhocalledhimselfthemarquisdeCarabaswalkedrestlesslyupanddownthealley.Richardcouldalreadytellthathewasthetypeofpersonwhowasalwaysinmotion,likeagreatcat.
"SomebodykilledDoor’sfamily?"askedRichard.
"We’renotgoingtogetveryfarifyoukeeprepeatingeverythingIsay,now,arewe?"saidthemarquis,whowasnowstandinginfrontofRichard."Sitdown,"heordered.Richardlookedaroundthealleyforsomethingtositon.Themarquisputahandonhisshoulderandsenthimsprawlingtothecobblestones."SheknowsIdon’tcomecheap.Whatexactlyissheofferingme?"
"Sorry?"
