Content
The voice of the storyteller went on and drew her with it into winding grottos under the sea, glowing with soft, clear blue light, and paved with pure golden sands.
It had consoled her through many a bitter day, and she had gone about the house with an expression in her face which Miss Minchin could not understand and which was a source of great annoyance to her, as it seemed as if the child were mentally living a life which held her above the rest of the world.
She had wanted Sara for something, and on inquiry had heard an astonishing thing.
But he did not relish the hash for the mention of Clongowes had coated his palate with a scum of disgust.
