Page 218 - The Book Thief

As time progressed, a clear distinction developed between two very different
worldsthe world inside 33 Himmel Street, and the one that resided and turned
outside it. The trick was to keep them apart.

In the outside world, Liesel was learning to find some more of its uses. One
afternoon, when she was walking home with an empty washing bag, she noticed
a newspaper poking out of a garbage can. The weekly edition of the Molching
Express. She lifted it out and took it home, presenting it to Max. I thought, she
told him, you might like to do the crossword to pass the time.

Max appreciated the gesture, and to justify her bringing it home, he read the
paper from cover to cover and showed her the puzzle a few hours later,
completed but for one word.

Damn that seventeen down, he said.

In February 1941, for her twelfth birthday, Liesel received another used book,
and she was grateful. It was called The Mud Men and was about a very strange
father and son. She hugged her mama and papa, while Max stood uncomfortably
in the corner.

Alles Gute zum Geburtstag. He smiled weakly. All the best for your birthday.
His hands were in his pockets. I didnt know, or else I could have given you
something. A blatant liehe had nothing to give, except maybe Mein Kampf, and
there was no way hed give such propaganda to a young German girl. That would
be like the lamb handing a knife to the butcher.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

She had embraced Mama and Papa.

Max looked so alone.

Liesel swallowed.

And she walked over and hugged him for the first time. Thanks, Max.

At first, he merely stood there, but as she held on to him, gradually his hands