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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"

He stared like an unmannered child.
_Something had lit the world_....
'This _is_ delicious air,' he heard Minks saying to his cousin in the
distance--to his deaf side judging by the answer:
'Delicious here--yes, isn't it?'
_Something had lit the stars._...
Minks and his cousin continued idly talking. Their voices twittered
like birds in empty space. The children had scattered like marbles
from a spinning-top. Their voices and footsteps sounded in the cobbled
yard of La Citadelle, as they scampered up to prepare for supper.
Mother sailed solemnly after them, more like a frigate than ever. The
world, on fire, turned like a monstrous Catherine wheel within his
brain.

_Something had lit the universe._...
He stood there in the dusk beneath the peeping stars, facing the
slender little shadow. It was all he saw at first--this tiny figure.
Demure and soft, it remained motionless before him, a hint of
childhood's wonder in its graceful attitude. He was aware of something
mischievous as well--that laughed at him.... He realised then that she
waited for him to speak. Yet, for the life of him, he could find no
words, because the eyes, beneath the big-brimmed hat with its
fluttering veil, looked out at him as though some formidable wild
creature watched him from the opening of its cave.


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