“So Michael has a sweet heart!” she said to herself asshe flung the window open—it opened into the street in Porthaventoo—and heaved his bedding across the sill to air. Considering hownosy she had lately become, Sophie was rather surprised at herselffor not asking Michael who his girl was and how he kept her safe fromHowl.

She swept such quantities of dust and rubbish from Michael’sroom that she nearly swamped Calcifer trying to burn it all.

“You’ll be the death of me! You’re as heartlessas Howl!” Calcifer choked. Only his green hair and a blue pieceof his long forehead showed.

Michael put his precious box in the drawer of the workbench andlocked the drawer. “I wish Howl would listen to us!” hesaid. “Why is this girl taking him so long?”

The next day Sophie tried to start on the backyard. But it wasraining in Porthaven that day, driving against the window andpattering in the chimney, making Calcifer hiss with annoyance. Theyard was part of the Porthaven house too, so it was pouring out therewhen Sophie opened the door. She put her apron over her head andrummaged a little, and before she got too wet, she found a bucket ofwhitewash and a large paintbrush. She took these indoors and set towork on the walls. She found an old stepladder in the broom cupboardand she whitewashed the ceiling between the beams too. it rained forthe next two days in Porthaven, though when Howl opened the door withthe knob green-blob-down and stepped out onto the hill, the weatherthere was sunny, with big cloud shadows racing over the heatherfaster than the castle could move. Sophie whitewashed her cubbyhole,the stairs, the landing, and Michael’s room.

“What’s happened in here?” Howl asked when hecame in on the third day. “It seems much lighter.”

“Sophie,” said Michael in a voice of doom.

“I should have guessed,” Howl said as he disappearedinto the bathroom.

“He noticed!” Michael whispered to Calcifer.“The girl must be giving in at last!”

It was still drizzling in Porthaven the next day. Sophie tied onher headcloth, rolled up her sleeves, and girdled on her apron. Shecollected her besom, her bucket, and her soap, and as soon as Howlwas out of the door, she set off like an elderly avenging angel toclean Howl’s bedroom.

She had left that until last for fear of what she would find. Shehad not even dared to peep into it. And that was silly, she thoughtas she hobbled up the stairs. By now it was clear that Calcifer didall the strong magic in the castle and Michael did all the hackwork,while Howl gadded off catching girls and exploiting the other twojust as Fanny had exploited her. Sophie had never found Howlparticularly frightening. Now she felt nothing but contempt.

She arrived on the landing and found Howl standing in the doorwayof his bedroom. He was leaning lazily on one hand, completelyblocking her way.

“No you don’t,” he said quite pleasantly.“I want it dirty, thank you.”

Sophie gaped at him. “Where did you come from? I saw you goout.”

“I meant you to,” said Howl. “You’d doneyour worst with Calcifer and poor Michael. It stood to reasonyou’d descend on me today. And whatever Calcifer told you, Iam a wizard, you know. Didn’t you think I could domagic?”

This undermined all Sophie’s assumptions. She would havedied rather than admit it. “Everyone knows you’re awizard, young man,” she said severely. “But thatdoesn’t alter the fact that your castle is the dirtiest placeI’ve ever been in.” she looked into the room pastHowl’s dangling blue-and-silver sleeve. The carpet on the floorwas littered like a bird’s nest. She glimpsed peeling walls anda shelf full of books, some of them very queer-looking. There was nosign of a pile of gnawed hearts, but those were probably behind orunder the huge fourposter bed. Its hangings were gray-white with dustand they prevented her from seeing what the window looked outonto.

Howl swung his sleeve in front of her face. “Uh-uh.Don’t be nosy.”

“I’m not being nosy!” Sophie protested.“That room—!”

“Yes, you are nosy,” said Howl.“You’re a dreadfully nosy, horribly bossy, appallinglyclean old woman. Control yourself. You’re victimizing usall.”

“But it’s a pigsty,” said Sophie. “Ican’t help what I am!”

“Yes you can,” said Howl. “And I like my roomthe way it is. You must admit I have a right to live in a pigsty if Iwant. Now go downstairs and think of something else to do. Please. Ihate quarreling with people.”

There was nothing Sophie could do but hobble away with her bucketclanking by her side. She was a little shaken, and very surprisedthat Howl had not thrown her out of the castle on the spot. But sincehe had not, she thought of the next thing that needed doing at once.She opened the door beside the stairs, found the drizzle had almoststopped, and sallied out into the yard, where she began vigorouslysorting through piles of dripping rubbish.

There was a metallic clash! and Howl appeared again,stumbling slightly, in the middle of the large sheet of rusty ironthat Sophie had been going to move next.

“Not here either,” he said. “You are a terror,aren’t you? Leave this yard alone. I know just where everythingis in it, and I won’t be able to find the things I need for mytransport spells if you tidy them up.”

So there was probably a bundle of souls or a box of chewed uphearts somewhere out here, Sophie thought. She felt really thwarted.“Tidying up is what I’m here for!” sheshouted at Howl.

“Then you must think of a new meaning for your life,”Howl said. For a moment it seemed as it he was going to lose histemper too. His strange, pale eyes all but glared at Sophie. But hecontrolled himself and said, “Now trot along indoors, youoveractive old thing, and find something else to play with before Iget angry. I hate getting angry.”

Sophie folded her skinny arms. She did not like being glared at byeyes like glass marbles. “Of course you hate gettingangry!” she retorted. “You don’t like anythingunpleasant, do you? You’re a slitherer-outer, that’s whatyou are! You slither away from anything you don’tlike!”

Howl gave a forced sort of smile. “Well now,” he said.“Now we both know each other’s faults. Now go back intothe house. Go on. Back.” He advanced on Sophie, waving hertoward the door. The sleeve on his waving hand caught the edge of therusty metal, jerked, and tore. “Damnation!” said Howl,holding up the trailing blue-and-silver ends. “Look whatyou’ve made me do!”

“I can mend it,” Sophie said.

Howl gave her another glassy look. “There you goagain,” he said. “How you must love servitude!” Hetook his torn sleeve gently between the fingers of his right hand andpulled it through them. As the blue-and-silver fabric left hisfingers, there was no tear in it at all. “There,” hesaid. “Understand?”

Sophie hobbled back indoors, rather chastened. Wizards clearly hadno need to work in the ordinary way. Howl had shown her he really wasa wizard to be reckoned with. “Why didn’t he turn meout?” she said, half to herself and half to Michael.

“It beats me,” said Michael. “But I think hegoes by Calcifer. Most people who come in here either don’tnotice Calcifer, or they’re scared stiff of him.”