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Nesbit, E. (Edith), 1858-1924

"The Phoenix and the Carpet"

I kept the secret well, didn't I?'
'Oh, yes,' said Cyril, with fine scorn. 'I found them the Sunday
after, when I was feeling in your Norfolks for the knife you
borrowed off me. But I thought you'd only sneaked them for Chinese
lanterns, or reading in bed by.'
'Bobs,' said Anthea, suddenly, 'do you know where we are? This is
the underground passage, and look there--there's the money and the
money-bags, and everything.'
By this time the ten eyes had got used to the light of the candles,
and no one could help seeing that Anthea spoke the truth.
'It seems an odd place to do good and kind acts in, though,' said
Jane. 'There's no one to do them to.'
'Don't you be too sure,' said Cyril; 'just round the next turning
we might find a prisoner who has languished here for years and
years, and we could take him out on our carpet and restore him to
his sorrowing friends.'
'Of course we could,' said Robert, standing up and holding the
candle above his head to see further off; 'or we might find the
bones of a poor prisoner and take them to his friends to be buried
properly--that's always a kind action in books, though I never
could see what bones matter.'
'I wish you wouldn't,' said Jane.
'I know exactly where we shall find the bones, too,' Robert went
on.


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