Je m'excuse d'emblée, mais cet extrait est en anglais, pour la simple et bonne raison que j'ignore s'il y a une version française de ce livre. J'ai présenté ce livre pour mon Bac, à l'oral. Je le conseille à tous ceux qui se sentent capable de lire un livre en anglais.


'You're going to be a cynic, just like him. You grow more and more like him every day. Mannerisms. Turns of phrase. Freakish ways of using your mind. You copy, absorb.Watch and copy. Let me just mention one thing. Suppose he were not your father ?' She turned away from me as she spoke the words. Her dress flowed around her like a waterfall. The fire gave her face and hands a beautiful warmth. She looked half frightened, half triumphant, very much alive.
It seemed to take a very long time for her words to reach me, and then to reach right deep into my mind. Hours perhaps. She waited patiently, her hand on the mantelpiece. A knot in a piece of wood exploded and showered the grate and some of the carpet with sparks. Automatically I licked my finger and thumb and stooping down quenched each smell red eart quickly.
'Well ?'
I looked the black specks on my thumb.
'Well ?'
'I don't suppose you really want me to treat that remark seriously.'
'But I do'.