А ещё там есть штука про нос без носа:
‘Bruno is a mouse,’ my grandmother said, calm as ever.
‘He most certainly is not a mouse!’ shouted Mr Jenkins.
‘Oh yes I am!’ Bruno said, poking his head up out of the handbag.
Mr Jenkins leapt about three feet into the air.
‘Hello, Dad,’ Bruno said. He had a silly sort of mousy grin on his face. [...]
‘By the way,’ my grandmother said, ‘would you like to know who did this to him?’ There was a mischievous little smile on her face and I could see that she was about to get Mr Jenkins into trouble.
‘Who?’ he cried. ‘Who did it?’
‘That woman over there,’ my grandmother said. ‘The small one in a black dress at the head of the long table.’ [...]
‘I wouldn’t do anything rash,’ my grandmother said to him. ‘That woman has magic powers. She might decide to turn you into something even sillier than a mouse. A cockroach perhaps.’
Происхождение у идиомы как раз в духе книжки «The Witches» — говорят, когда викинги завоевали Ирландию, они ввели налог на носы, а кто его не платил — оставался без носа. С тех пор «pay through the nose» значит, что придётся заплатить бешеные деньги, если не хочешь остаться с носом. Или без носа. Only nose knows.