" It was the silver salver on
which Thompson brought in visitors' cards. But it was a plate as well;
and, being a plate, he remembered vaguely something about a
collection. The association of ideas worked itself out in a remote and
dreamlike way; he felt in his pocket for a shilling, a sixpence, or a
threepenny bit, and wondered for a second where the big, dark building
was to which all this belonged. Something was changed, it seemed. His
clothes, this dancing sunshine, joy and laughter. The world was new.
What did it mean?...
"No bells are ringing," flashed back the flying letters in a spray.
He was on the point of catching something by the tail... when he saw
the children waiting for him on the sunny lawn outside. He ran out
instantly to join them. They had noticed nothing odd, apparently. It
had never even occurred to them. And in himself the memory dived away,
its very trail obliterated as though it had not been.
For this was Sunday morning, yet Sunday had not--happened.
HIDE-AND-SEEK
III
The garden clung close and soft about the Old Mill House as a mood
clings about the emotion that has summoned it.
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