he looked a well set-up young lad who would like a nice tune.
He thanked her very much, and said that he hoped he was having a nice tune already.
Death reached the street corner, the light from the flares raising brilliant highlights on the polished dome of his skull, and sniffed the air. A drunk staggered up, and without quite realizing why made a slight detour in his erratic passage for no visible reason. THIS IS THE CITY, BOY , said Death. WHAT DO YOU THINK?
'It's very big,' said Mort, uncertainly. 'I mean, why does everyone want to live all squeezed together like this?'
Death shrugged.
I LIKE IT
, he said. IT'S FULL OF LIFE .
'Sir?'
YES?
'What's a curry?'
The blue fires flared deep in the eyes of Death.
HAVE YOU EVER BITTEN A RED-HOT ICE CUBE?
'No, sir,' said Mort.
CURRY'S LIKE THAT
.
'Sir?'
YES?
Mort swallowed hard. 'Excuse me, sir, but my dad said, if I don't understand, I was to ask questions, sir?'
VERY COMMENDABLE
, said Death. He set off down a side street, the crowds parting in front of him like random molecules.
'Well, sir, I can't help noticing, the point is, well, the plain fact of it, sir, is —'
OUT WITH IT, BOY
.
'How can you eat things, sir?'
Death pulled up short, so that Mort walked into him. When the boy started to speak he waved him into silence. He appeared to be listening to something.
THERE ARE TIMES, YOU KNOW
, he said, half to himself, WHEN I GET REALLY UPSET .
He turned on one heel and set off down an alleyway at high speed, his cloak flying out behind him. The alley wound between dark walls and sleeping buildings, not so much a thoroughfare as a meandering gap.
Вы читаете Mort
