And even Mother Plume, pacing her airless room at the further end of
the village and tapping her ebony stick upon the floor, turned
suspiciously, as at a passing flash of light that warmed her for a
sudden instant as it went.
'Perhaps, after all, they don't mean all these unkind things they do
to me!' she thought; 'I live so much alone. Possibly I see things less
clearly than I used to do!'
The spell was certainly very potent, though Daddy himself, reading out
the little shining chapters, guessed as little as the rest of them how
strong. So small a part of what he meant to say, it seemed, had been
transferred to the paper. More than he realised, far, far more, lay
between the lines, of course. There was conviction in it, because
there was vision and belief. Not much was said when he put his roll
of paper down and leaned back in his chair. Riquette opened her eyes
and blinked narrowly, then closed them again and began to purr. The
ticking of the cuckoo clock seemed suddenly very loud and noticeable.
'Thank you,' said Mother quietly in an uncertain kind of voice. 'The
world seems very wonderful now--quite different.'
She moved in her chair--the first movement she had made for over two
hours. Daddy rubbed his eyes, stroked his beard, and lit a cigarette;
it went out almost immediately, but he puffed on at it just the same,
till his cousin struck a match and stood over him to see it properly
alight.
Pages:
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462