ch. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. All at once she realised that Kimble had halted, leaning heavily against the wall. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. “Lord!” she said. You've nothing to do but to take possession. ’ ‘All the way to England?’ She opened wide eyes. ” Lucy commented. .
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