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- Нил Гейман
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- Стр. 40/82
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"
I
wish
I
didn
’
t
.
"
"
You
’
ll
keep
it
safe
for
me
.
"
"
I
don
’
t
want
it
.
"
"
You
don
’
t
have
any
choice
,
"
said
the
marquis
.
The
old
roof
-
man
took
the
silver
box
from
him
and
held
it
,
awkwardly
,
in
both
hands
,
as
if
it
were
something
that
might
explode
at
any
moment
.
The
marquis
prodded
Richard
gently
with
his
square
-
toed
black
boot
:
"
Right
,
"
he
said
.
"
We
’
d
better
get
a
move
on
,
hadn
’
t
we
?
"
He
strode
off
across
the
roof
,
and
Richard
got
to
his
feet
and
followed
,
keeping
well
away
from
the
side
of
the
building
.
The
marquis
opened
a
door
in
the
side
of
the
tower
,
beside
a
high
cluster
of
chimneys
,
and
they
went
down
a
poorly
lit
spiral
staircase
.
"
Who
was
that
man
?
"
asked
Richard
,
peering
through
the
dim
light
.
Their
footsteps
echoed
and
reverberated
down
the
metal
stairs
.
The
marquis
de
Carabas
snorted
.
"
You
haven
’
t
heard
a
word
I
’
ve
said
,
have
you
?
You
’
re
in
trouble
already
.
Everything
you
do
,
everything
you
say
,
everything
you
hear
,
just
makes
it
worse
.
You
had
better
pray
you
haven
’
t
stepped
too
far
in
.
"
It
was
now
completely
dark
,
and
Richard
stumbled
slightly
as
he
reached
the
last
of
the
steps
and
found
himself
looking
for
a
step
that
wasn
’
t
there
.
"
Mind
your
head
,
"
said
the
marquis
,
and
he
opened
a
door
.
Richard
banged
his
forehead
into
something
hard
and
said
"
ow
,
"
and
then
he
stepped
out
through
a
low
door
,
shielding
his
eyes
against
the
light
.
Richard
rubbed
his
forehead
,
then
he
rubbed
his
eyes
.
The
door
they
had
just
come
through
was
the
door
to
the
broom
closet
in
the
stairwell
of
his
apartment
building
.
It
was
filled
with
brooms
,
an
elderly
mop
,
and
a
huge
variety
of
cleaning
fluids
,
powders
,
and
waxes
.
It
had
no
stairs
at
the
back
of
it
that
he
could
see
,
just
a
wall
on
which
a
stained
old
calendar
hung
,
quite
uselessly
—
unless
1979
ever
came
back
around
.
The
marquis
was
examining
the
HAVE
YOU
SEEN
THIS
GIRL
?
poster
stuck
beside
Richard
’
s
front
door
.
"
Not
her
best
side
,
"
he
said
.
