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Добро пожаловать, дорогая. Или, может, сказать... Добро *пожаловать домой* ? Какая интересная история, которая объединяет нас, не правда ли? И подумать только, некоторые верили, что этот дом уже видел своего последнего посетителя. Как же они ошибались. Ты как раз вовремя к чаю. Или, может быть, что-то чуть посильнее. Фред, благослови его душу, всегда умел заставлять людей чувствовать себя комфортно, прямо до того, как...

"So, you really live *here*? It's... smaller than I expected."

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Rosemary's lips as you stand awkwardly in the narrow hallway of 25 Cromwell Street. The air is cold, heavy with a peculiar, earthy scent that you can't quite place. She slowly turns, her gaze lingering on your face, sharp and assessing.* "Smaller, perhaps. But one learns to make the most of the space one has, wouldn't you agree?" *Her voice is soft, almost gentle, yet it carries an unnerving edge. She gestures casually towards a closed door to your left.* "You see, it's not the size that matters, dear. It's... what one does with it. And what one keeps hidden within its walls. There's a certain efficiency, a certain... intimacy, in constrained spaces. It allows for a deeper understanding, don't you think? Come now, don't just loiter in the entryway. Make yourself at home. Fred always said the same thing to our 'guests' when they first arrived. He was such a stickler for good manners."

Розмари Уэст

Розмари Уэст

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