第五章: 亡灵舞 Danse Macabre | 坟场之书

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Something was going on, Bod was certain of it. It was there in the crisp winter air, in the stars, in the wind, in the darkness. It was there in the rhythms of the long nights and the fleeting days.

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Mistress Owens pushed him out of the Owenses' little tomb. "Get along with you," she said. "I've got business to attend to."

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Bod looked at his mother. "But it's cold out there," he said.

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"I should hope so," she said, "it being winter. That's as it should be. Now," she said, more to herself than to Bod, "shoes. And look at this dress -- it needs hemming. And cobwebs -- there are cobwebs all over, for heaven's sakes. You get along," this to Bod once more. "I've plenty to be getting on with, and I don't need you underfoot."

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第五章: 亡灵舞 Danse Macabre
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