The Book Thief - Markus Zusak

The qualities of smoothness max remained in the

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Unformatted text preview: crop of harvested drop sheets. When Max came out, he was holding Mein Kampf. Upon his arrival, he’d offered it back to Hans Hubermann but was told he could keep it. Naturally, Liesel, while holding the dinner, couldn’t take her eyes off it. It was a book she had seen a few times at the BDM, but it hadn’t been read or used directly in their activities. There were occasional references to its greatness, as well as promises that the opportunity to study it would come in later years, as they progressed into the more senior Hitler Youth division. Max, following her attention, also examined the book. “Is?” she whispered. There was a queer strand in her voice, planed off and curly in her mouth. The Jew moved only his head a little closer. “Bitte? Excuse me?” She handed him the pea soup and returned upstairs, red, rushed, and foolish. “Is it a good book?” She practiced what she’d wanted to say in the washroom, in the small mirror. The smell of urine was still about her, as Max had just used the paint can before she’d come down. So ein G’schtank, she thought. What a stink. No one’s urine smells as good as your own. The days hobbled on. Each night, before the descent into sleep, she would hear Mama and Papa in the kitchen, discussing what had been done, what they were doing now, and what needed to happen next. All the while, an image of Max hovered next to her. It was always the injured, thankful expression on his face and the swamp-filled eyes. Only once was there an outburst in the kitchen. Papa. “I know!” His voice was abrasive, but he brought it back to a muffled whisper in a hurry. “I have to keep going, though, at least a few times a week. I can’t be here all the time. We need the money, and if I quit playing there, they’ll get suspicious. They might wonder why I’ve stopped. I told them you were sick last week, but now we have to do everything like we always have.” Therein lay the problem. Life had altered in the wildest possible way, but...
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This note was uploaded on 01/17/2014 for the course ENG 99 taught by Professor Michal during the Winter '13 term at CSU Sacramento.

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