Читать книгу Who Could That Be at This Hour? - Lemony Snicket - Страница 42

CHAPTER THREE

After the sixth ring of the doorbell, I could hear faint footsteps approaching the door, but my thoughts had drifted someplace else. Instead of standing at the door of a mansion in this strange, faraway place, I imagined myself back in the city, standing at the top of a hole with my tape measure and my trusted associate. I pictured myself in possession of all the belong­ings I had put in my suitcase. I pretended that I had no need of a strange, shiny mask. And