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 But the sadness drapes heavily on my countenance! he whimpered.
We sat on the foreshore next to the fisherman, who was still looking aghast,
and sobbed quietly as though our hearts would break. The young girl came and
sat down next to me. She patted my hand reassuringly.
 I didn twant to be rescued anyway, she announced.  If I survive, the whole
point of the poem is lost Henry will befurious. 
 Don t worry, I said.  It ll all be repaired.
 And everyone keeps on giving me their jackets, she continued in a huffy
tone.  Honestly, it gets harder and harder to freeze to death these days.
There s this one that Anne gave me, she added, thumbing the thick pile on the
blue Goliath jacket,  and the one the old man gave me seventeen years ago.
 Really, I m not interested in 
I stopped sobbing as a bright shaft of sunlight cut through the storm clouds
of my melancholia.
 Do& you still have it?
 Of course!
And she unzipped the Goliath jacket to reveal a man s blue jacket in large
checks. Never had I been happier to see a more tasteless garment. I quickly
rummaged through the pockets and found a yo-yo string, a very old bag of jelly
beans, a domino, a screwdriver, an invention for cooking the perfect
hard-boiled egg and& wrapped in a plastic freezer bag, a paper napkin with a
simple equation written upon it. I gave the young girl a hug, my feeling of
elation quadrupled by the magnifying effect of Poetry. I breathed a sigh of
relief.Found! Without wasting a moment, I tore the recipe into small pieces
and ate them.
 Riublf, I said to Colin with my mouth full,  leb s get goinf.
 I don t think we re going anywhere, Ms. Next.
I looked up and saw what he meant. Occupying every square inch of space on
the sea beach, the foreshore, the dunes and even standing in the sea were
hundreds upon hundreds of identical black-clad Mrs. Danvers, staring at me
malevolently. We d killed five of their number recently, so I guessed they
wouldn t be that pleased. Mind you, they were always pretty miserable, so it
might have had nothing to do with it. I instinctively grasped the butt of my
pistol, but it was pointless like using a peashooter against a T-54 battle
tank.
 Well, I said, swallowing the last piece of the recipe and addressing the
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nearest Danverclone,  you d better take me to your leader.
35.
The Bees, the Bees
The Danverclones had advanced a good deal since their accidental creation
from the original Mrs. Danvers inRebecca. At first, they had simply been
creepy, fifty-something house keepers with bad attitude, but now they had
weapons training as well. A standard Danverclone was a fearless yet generally
vapid drone who would willingly die to follow orders. But just recently an
elite force of Danverclones had arisen, with not only weaponry but a sound
working knowledge of the BookWorld. Even I would think twice before tackling
this bunch. We called them the SWOT team.
The Danverclones moved in silently. With bewildering speed and a
tentacle-like movement of their bony limbs, four of them grasped my arms while
another took my shoulder bag and a sixth removed my pistol. A seventh, who
appeared to be the platoon commander, spoke briefly into a
mobilefootnoterphone:
 Target Number One located and in custody.
She then snapped the phone shut and used a brief series of hand signals to
the other Mrs. Danvers, who began to jump out of the poem, beginning with the
ones right at the back. I looked across at Colin, who was also being held
tightly. A Danverclone had pulled his taxi license from his wallet and held it
up in front of him before tearing it in two and tossing the halves in the air.
He glanced at me and looked severely annoyed, but not with me more with the
Danverclones and the circumstances. I was just wondering where they would take
me when there was a faint crackle in the air and my recently appointed
least-favorite person was standing right in front of me. She was dressed in
all her black leather finery, twin automatics on her hips and a long black
greatcoat that fell to the ground. She leered at me as she appeared, and I
thought about spitting in her eye but decided against it she was too far away,
and if I d missed, I would just have looked even more enfeebled.
 Well, well, said Thursday1 4,  the great Thursday Next finally brought to
book.
 Wow! I replied.  Black is surely the color of choice today.
She ignored me and continued,  Do you know, it s going to be fun being you.
Senator Jobsworth has extended me all the rights that are usually yours you in
the BookWorld, you at the CofG, you in the much-awaited and now
greenlightedThursday Next Returns  This Time It s Personaland you in the
Outland. That s the bit I like best. As much Landen as I want. She leaned
closer and lowered her voice.  And believe me, I want alot. 
I gave an almighty howl of anger and struggled to break loose from the
Danvers, but without any luck. The clones all sniggered, and Thursday1 4
smiled unpleasantly.
 It s time for you to vanish, Thursday, she growled.
She tossed a pair of handcuffs to the Danvers, who pulled my arms behind my
back and secured them. Thursday1 4 held on to me, took my shoulder bag from a
nearby clone and began to walk away when the commander of the Mrs. Danvers
contingent said,  I have orders to take her direct to the Île Saint-Joseph
withinPapillon as per your original plan, Ms. Next1 4.
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The other me turned to the Mrs. Danvers, looked her up and down and sneered,
 You ve done your job, Danny you ll be rewarded. This ismy prisoner.
But Mrs. Danvers had an order, and Danvers only do one thing: They do as
they re told and, until countermanded by a written order, they do it rather
well.
 I have mywritten instructions, the clone said more firmly, and the other
Danvers took a menacing step toward us, three of them producing weapons from
within the folds of their black dresses.
 I m countermanding your order.
 No, said Mrs. Danvers.  I have my orders, and Iwill carry them out.
 Listen here shitface, said Thursday1 4 with a snarl,  I m the new Mrs. de
Winter now geddit?
Mrs. Danvers took a step back in shocked amazement, and in that short moment
Thursday1 4 held tightly to my arm and jumped us both out.
I was expecting a ready dug grave or worse, a shovel and a place forme to dig
one, but there wasn t. Instead the place where we d arrived looked more like
the sitting room of a Georgian country house of moderate means somewhere, and,
thankfully, there wasn t a shovel in sight but there was a Bradshaw, five
Bennet sisters and Mr. Bennet, who were all staring at me expectantly, which
was somewhat confusing.
 Ah! said Bradshaw.  Thank goodness for that. Sorry to keep you in the dark,
old girl, but I knew my footnoterphone was bugged. We ve got to get you across [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]