Page 213 - The Book Thief

It was decided that Trudy, despite her mild demeanor, could not be trusted.

We trust only the people we have to, Papa stated, and that is the three of us.

There was extra food and the apology to Max that this was not his religion, but a
ritual nonetheless.

He didnt complain.

What grounds did he have?

He explained that he was a Jew in upbringing, in blood, but also that Jewry was
now more than ever a labela ruinous piece of the dumbest luck around.

It was then that he also took the opportunity to say he was sorry that the
Hubermanns son had not come home. In response, Papa told him that such
things were out of their control. After all, he said, you should know it yourselfa

young man is still a boy, and a boy sometimes has the right to be stubborn.

They left it at that.

For the first few weeks in front of the fire, Max remained wordless. Now that he
was having a proper bath once a week, Liesel noticed that his hair was no longer
a nest of twigs, but rather a collection of feathers, flopping about on his head.
Still shy of the stranger, she whispered it to her papa.

His hair is like feathers.

What? The fire had distorted the words.

I said, she whispered again, leaning closer, his hair is like feathers. . . .

Hans Hubermann looked across and nodded his agreement. Im sure he was
wishing to have eyes like the girl. They didnt realize that Max had heard
everything.

Occasionally he brought the copy of Mein Kampf and read it next to the flames,
seething at the content. The third time he brought it, Liesel finally found the
courage to ask her question.