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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Кубок огня
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- Стр. 2/658
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"
Always
thought
he
was
odd
,
"
she
told
the
eagerly
listening
villagers
,
after
her
fourth
sherry
.
"
Unfriendly
,
like
.
I
'm
sure
if
I
've
offered
him
a
cuppa
once
,
I
've
offered
it
a
hundred
times
.
Never
wanted
to
mix
,
he
did
n't
.
"
"
Ah
,
now
,
"
said
a
woman
at
the
bar
,
"
he
had
a
hard
war
,
Frank
.
He
likes
the
quiet
life
.
That
's
no
reason
to
-
"
"
Who
else
had
a
key
to
the
back
door
,
then
?
"
barked
the
cook
.
"
There
's
been
a
spare
key
hanging
in
the
gardener
's
cottage
far
back
as
I
can
remember
!
Nobody
forced
the
door
last
night
!
No
broken
windows
!
All
Frank
had
to
do
was
creep
up
to
the
big
house
while
we
was
all
sleeping
...
"
The
villagers
exchanged
dark
looks
.
"
I
always
thought
that
he
had
a
nasty
look
about
him
,
right
enough
,
"
grunted
a
man
at
the
bar
.
"
War
turned
him
funny
,
if
you
ask
me
,
"
said
the
landlord
.
"
Told
you
I
would
n't
like
to
get
on
the
wrong
side
of
Frank
,
did
n't
I
,
Dot
?
"
said
an
excited
woman
in
the
corner
.
"
Horrible
temper
,
"
said
Dot
,
nodding
fervently
.
"
I
remember
,
when
he
was
a
kid
...
"
By
the
following
morning
,
hardly
anyone
in
Little
Hangleton
doubted
that
Frank
Bryce
had
killed
the
Riddles
.
But
over
in
the
neighboring
town
of
Great
Hangleton
,
in
the
dark
and
dingy
police
station
,
Frank
was
stubbornly
repeating
,
again
and
again
,
that
he
was
innocent
,
and
that
the
only
person
he
had
seen
near
the
house
on
the
day
of
the
Riddles
'
deaths
had
been
a
teenage
boy
,
a
stranger
,
dark-haired
and
pale
.
Nobody
else
in
the
village
had
seen
any
such
boy
,
and
the
police
were
quite
sure
Frank
had
invented
him
.
