第六十七章: 斯大林格勒的雪 The Snows of Stalingrad | 偷书贼

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In the middle of January 1943, the corridor of Himmel Street was its dark, miserable self. Liesel shut the gate and made her way to Frau Holtzapfel's door and knocked. She was surprised by the answerer.

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Her first thought was that the man must have been one of her sons, but he did not look like either of the brothers in the framed photos by the door. He seemed far too old, although it was difficult to tell. His face was dotted with whiskers and his eyes looked painful and loud. A bandaged hand fell out of his coat sleeve and cherries of blood were seeping through the wrapping.

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"Perhaps you should come back later."

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Liesel tried to look past him. She was close to calling out to Frau Holtzapfel, but the man blocked her.

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第六十七章: 斯大林格勒的雪 The Snows of Stalingrad
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