The Lamb babbled
of coloured sand and water, but no one took any notice of that. He
often talked of things that hadn't happened.
It was on Monday morning, very early indeed, that Anthea woke and
suddenly made up her mind. She crept downstairs in her night-gown
(it was very chilly), sat down on the carpet, and with a beating
heart wished herself on the sunny shore where you can't have
whooping-cough, and next moment there she was.
The sand was splendidly warm. She could feel it at once, even
through the carpet. She folded the carpet, and put it over her
shoulders like a shawl, for she was determined not to be parted
from it for a single instant, no matter how hot it might be to
wear.
Then trembling a little, and trying to keep up her courage by
saying over and over, 'It is my DUTY, it IS my duty,' she went up
the forest path.
'Well, here you are again,' said the cook, directly she saw Anthea.
'This dream does keep on!'
The cook was dressed in a white robe; she had no shoes and
stockings and no cap and she was sitting under a screen of
palm-leaves, for it was afternoon in the island, and blazing hot.
She wore a flower wreath on her hair, and copper-coloured boys were
fanning her with peacock's feathers.
'They've got the cap put away,' she said.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91