″You mean they may put us on trial?″ ″Well, they certainly won't give us a pat on the back.″
All the agents looked downcast. Perching on the wings and bumpers of their gray limousines, they brooded on the price of failure.
There was no point in hurrying, not now.
Far, far away by this time, somewhere in the maze of deserted, snow-white streets and squares, Momo continued to follow the tortoise.
Despite their leisurely progress, or because of it, the streets and buildings seemed to flash past in a white blur.
The tortoise turned yet another corner and Momo, following close behind, stopped short in amazement.
The street ahead of them was unlike all the rest. It was really more of an alleyway than a street.
The close-packed buildings on either side were a mass of little turrets, gables and balconies.
They resembled dainty glass palaces which, after lying on the sea bed since time out of mind, had suddenly risen to the surface.
Draped in seaweed and encrusted with barnacles and coral, they shimmered gently with all the iridescent, rainbow hues of mother-of-pearl.
The narrow street ended in a house detached from all the others and standing at right angles to them.
Its big bronze front door was richly decorated with ornamental figures.
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