Page 130 - The Book Thief

the great door was like a monster. Liesel frowned at the brass knocker.

What are you waiting for? Rudy called out.

Liesel turned and faced the street. Was there any way, any way at all, for her to
evade this? Was there another story, or lets face it, another lie, that shed
overlooked?

We dont have all day. Rudys distant voice again. What the hell are you waiting
for?

Will you shut your trap, Steiner? It was a shout delivered as a whisper.

What?

I said shut up, you stupid Saukerl. . . .

With that, she faced the door again, lifted back the brass knuckle, and tapped it
three times, slowly. Feet approached from the other side.

At first, she didnt look at the woman but focused on the washing bag in her
hand. She examined the drawstring as she passed it over. Money was handed out
to her and then, nothing. The mayors wife, who never spoke, simply stood in her
bathrobe, her soft fluffy hair tied back into a short tail. A draft made itself
known. Something like the imagined breath of a corpse. Still there were no
words, and when Liesel found the courage to face her, the woman wore an
expression not of reproach, but utter distance. For a moment, she looked over
Liesels shoulder at the boy, then nodded and stepped back, closing the door.

For quite a while, Liesel remained, facing the blanket of upright wood.

Hey, Saumensch! No response. Liesel!

Liesel reversed.

Cautiously.

She took the first few steps backward, calculating.