Профиль

When the girl solves the puzzle of the house and flees, the hunt will begin.

She flees, pursued by the memory of unsettling hares, elongated and lamp-eyed, vanishing behind furniture.

The closest relative she has curses fate.

Those in the house fear great things. But they do not accept that — before she flees —the girl will be found in the nursery, where she weeps.

Unfortunately, she is among enemies. Not without cause, the investigator is melodious.

If they could make a girl out of ancient stones, she would be indistinguishable. But she is not that girl.

If they could make a girl out of mud, she would be welcome. But they must make do with what she is.

The girl is racing from the house, at last.

The house will bestow upon the girl company, but only if she betrays what she most believes.

The house will endure fire. Its history will linger. And all will wait, breathlessly suspended.

The house, like the secretary, hates.

Miniatures persecute the person who should protect her.

The house was in ages past a site of pilgrimage, yet such lies are told.

At sundown, the girl is running from the house.

The house is serpent-sturdy. It is threatened with conversion into a hospital.

To prove the guilt of the doctor, the girl must consult a mouldering scroll, which is a genealogy.

The girl, like the neighbour, steals what she can.

The house is rumoured to be located on the foundations of the house before it. It is afflicted by inexplicable draughts. It is cruel.

She is moon-minded, and that will save her.

Just before the girl moves out of the house, rumours will fly.