Page 359 - The Book Thief

one day you will knock on the front door and enter the li brary in the more

civilized manner.

Again, I am sorry we could no longer keep your foster mother employed.

Lastly, I hope you find this dictionary and thesaurus useful as you read your
stolen books.

Yours sincerely,

Ilsa Hermann

Wed better head home, Rudy suggested, but Liesel did not go.

Can you wait here for ten minutes?

Of course.

Liesel struggled back up to 8 Grande Strasse and sat on the familiar territory of
the front entrance. The book was with Rudy, but she held the letter and rubbed
her fingers on the folded paper as the steps grew heavier around her. She tried
four times to knock on the daunting flesh of the door, but she could not bring
herself to do it. The most she could accomplish was to place her knuckles gently
on the warmness of the wood.

Again, her brother found her.

From the bottom of the steps, his knee healing nicely, he said, Come on, Liesel,
knock.

As she made her second getaway, she could soon see the distant figure of Rudy
at the bridge. The wind showered through her hair. Her feet swam with the
pedals.

Liesel Meminger was a criminal.

But not because shed stolen a handful of books through an open window.

You should have knocked, she thought, and although there was a good portion of