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

Sophie had not noticed, which made her feel more foolish still. And feeling foolish made her angry.
"Well, I think it's still wicked, going round making poor girls unhappy," she said. "It's heartless and
pointless."
"He's made that way," said Calcifer.
Michael pulled a three-legged stool up to the fire and sat on it while Sophie sewed, telling her of Howl's
conquests and some of the trouble that had happened afterward. Sophie muttered at the fine suit. She
still felt very foolish. "So you ate hearts, did you, suit? Why do aunts put things so oddly when they talk
about their nieces? Probably fancied you themselves, my good suit. How would you feel with a raging
aunt after you, eh?" As Michael told her the story of the particular aunt he had in mind, it occurred to
Sophie that it was probably just as well the rumors of Howl had come to Market Chipping in those
words. She could imagine a strong-minded girl like Lettie otherwise getting very interested in Howl and
ending up very unhappy.
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Michael had just suggested lunch and Calcifer as usual had groaned when Howl flung open the door
and came in, more discontented than ever.
"Something to eat?" said Sophie.
"No," said Howl. "Hot water in the bathroom, Calcifer." He stood moodily in the bathroom door a
moment. "Sophie, have you tidied this shelf of spells in here by any chance?"
Sophie felt more foolish than ever. Nothing would have possessed her to admit she had gone through
all those packets and jars looking for pieces of girl. "I haven't touched a thing," she replied virtuously as
she went to get the frying pan.
"I hope you didn't," Michael said uneasily as the bathroom door slammed shut.
Rinsings and gushings came from the bathroom while Sophie fried lunch. "He's using a lot of hot
water," Calcifer said from under the pan. "I think he's tinting his hair. I hope you left the hair spells
alone. For a plain man with mud-colored hair, he's terribly vain about his looks."
"Oh, shut up!" snapped Sophie. "I put everything back just where I found it!" She was so cross that she
emptied the pan of eggs and bacon over Calcifer.
Calcifer, of course, ate them with enormous enthusiasm and much flaring and gobbling. Sophie fried
more over the spitting flames. She and Michael ate them. They were clearing away, and Calcifer was
running his blue tongue round his purple lips, when the bathroom door crashed open and Howl shot
out, wailing with despair.
"Look at this!" he shouted. "Look at it! What has that one-woman force of chaos done to these spells?"
Sophie and Michael whirled round and looked at Howl. His hair was wet, but, apart from that, neither
of them could see that it looked any different.
"If you mean me-" Sophie began.
"I do mean you! Look!" Howl shrieked. He sat down with a thump on the three-legged stool and jabbed
at his wet head with his finger. "Look. Survey. Inspect. My hair is ruined! I look like a pan of bacon and
eggs!"
Michael and Sophie bent nervously over Howl's head. It seemed the usual flaxen color right to the
roots. The only difference might have been a slight, very slight, trace of red. Sophie found that
agreeable. It reminded her a little of the color her own hair should have been.
"I think it's very nice," she said.
"Nice!" screamed Howl. "You would! You did it on purpose. You couldn't rest until you made me
miserable too. Look at it! It's ginger! I shall have to hide until it's grown out!" He spread his arms out
passionately. "Despair!" he yelled. "Anguish! Horror!"
The room turned dim. Huge, cloudy, human-looking shapes bellied up in all four corners and advanced
on Sophie and Michael, howling as they came. The howls began as moaning horror, and went up to
despairing brays, and then up again to screams of pain and terror. Sophie pressed her hands to her ears,
but the screams pressed through her hands, louder and louder still, more horrible every second. Calcifer