"Diana Wynne Jones - Howl's Moving Castle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Diana Wynne)

grumbled that he had drained one hot spring dry for her.
"Where are these hot springs?" Sophie asked. She was curious about everything these days.
"Under the Porthaven Marshes mostly," Calcifer said. "But if you go on like this, I'll have to fetch water
from the Waste. When are you going to stop cleaning and find out how to break my contract?"
"In good time," said Sophie. "How can I get the terms out of Howl if he's never in? Is he always away
this much?"
"Only when he's after a lady," Calcifer said.
When the bathroom was clean and gleaming, Sophie scrubbed the stairs and the landing upstairs. Then
she moved into Michael's small front room. Michael, who by this time seemed to be accepting Sophie
gloomily as a sort of natural disaster, gave a yell of dismay and pounded upstairs to rescue his most
treasured possessions. They were in an old box under his worm-eaten little bed. As he hurried the box
protectively away, Sophie glimpsed a blue ribbon and a spun-sugar rose in it, on top of what seemed to
be letters.
"So Michael has a sweet heart!" she said to herself as she flung the window open-it opened into the
street in Porthaven too-and heaved his bedding across the sill to air. Considering how nosy she had
lately become, Sophie was rather surprised at herself for not asking Michael who his girl was and how
he kept her safe from Howl.
She swept such quantities of dust and rubbish from Michael's room that she nearly swamped Calcifer
trying to burn it all.
"You'll be the death of me! You're as heartless as Howl!" Calcifer choked. Only his green hair and a
blue piece of his long forehead showed.
Michael put his precious box in the drawer of the workbench and locked the drawer. "I wish Howl
would listen to us!" he said. "Why is this girl taking him so long?"
The next day Sophie tried to start on the backyard. But it was raining in Porthaven that day, driving
against the window and pattering in the chimney, making Calcifer hiss with annoyance. The yard was
part of the Porthaven house too, so it was pouring out there when Sophie opened the door. She put her
apron over her head and rummaged a little, and before she got too wet, she found a bucket of
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whitewash and a large paintbrush. She took these indoors and set to work on the walls. She found an
old stepladder in the broom cupboard and she whitewashed the ceiling between the beams too. it rained
for the next two days in Porthaven, though when Howl opened the door with the knob green-blob-down
and stepped out onto the hill, the weather there was sunny, with big cloud shadows racing over the
heather faster than the castle could move. Sophie whitewashed her cubbyhole, the stairs, the landing,
and Michael's room.
"What's happened in here?" Howl asked when he came in on the third day. "It seems much lighter."
"Sophie," said Michael in a voice of doom.
"I should have guessed," Howl said as he disappeared into the bathroom.
"He noticed!" Michael whispered to Calcifer. "The girl must be giving in at last!"
It was still drizzling in Porthaven the next day. Sophie tied on her headcloth, rolled up her sleeves, and
girdled on her apron. She collected her besom, her bucket, and her soap, and as soon as Howl was out
of the door, she set off like an elderly avenging angel to clean Howl's bedroom.
She had left that until last for fear of what she would find. She had not even dared to peep into it. And
that was silly, she thought as she hobbled up the stairs. By now it was clear that Calcifer did all the
strong magic in the castle and Michael did all the hackwork, while Howl gadded off catching girls and
exploiting the other two just as Fanny had exploited her. Sophie had never found Howl particularly
frightening. Now she felt nothing but contempt.
She arrived on the landing and found Howl standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He was leaning
lazily on one hand, completely blocking her way.
"No you don't," he said quite pleasantly. "I want it dirty, thank you."