A smooth, soft
running touch closed gently on his own; it was cool and yielding,
delicate as the down upon a robin's breast, yet firm as steel. And in
that moment he knew that his glimpse on entering the room was not a
trick, but had been a passing glimpse of what the children always
believed in, hoped for--saw.
"Thank you," he murmured, withdrawing his hand and examining it, "very
much indeed. This _is_ a beautiful day."
An extraordinary power came into him, a feeling of confidence and
security and joy he had never known before. Yet all he could find to
say was that it was a very beautiful day. The commonest speech
expressed exactly what he felt. Ordinary words at last had meaning,
small words could tell it.
"It's all right?" remarked Tim, in an excited but quite natural tone.
"It _is_," he answered.
"Then let's go out now and do all sorts of things. There's simply
heaps to do."
"Out into the sun," cried Judy. "Come on. We'll get into our old
garden boots." And she dragged her brother headlong out of the room.
THE STRANGER WHO IS WONDER
II
And Uncle Felix moved forward into the pool of sunlight that blazed
upon the faded carpet pattern.
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