Page 266 - The Book Thief

because of me.

Tommy, what did I say?

When?

Now! Just keep quiet.

Sure, Rudy.

When Tommy walked forlornly home a short while later, Rudy tried what
appeared to be a masterful new tactic.

Pity.

On the step, he perused the mud that had dried as a crusty sheet on his uniform,
then looked Liesel hopelessly in the face. What about it, Saumensch?

What about what?

You know. . . .

Liesel responded in the usual fashion.

Saukerl, she laughed, and she walked the short distance home. A disconcerting
mixture of mud and pity was one thing, but kissing Rudy Steiner was something
entirely different.

Smiling sadly on the step, he called out, rummaging a hand through his hair. One
day, he warned her. One day, Liesel!

In the basement, just over two years later, Liesel ached sometimes to go next
door and see him, even if she was writing in the early hours of morning. She also
realized it was most likely those sodden days at the Hitler Youth that had fed his,
and subsequently her own, desire for crime.

After all, despite the usual bouts of rain, summer was beginning to arrive
properly. The Klar apples should have been ripening. There was more stealing to
be done.