Next, the other end of the ball extended itself, twisted in
a leisurely fashion sideways, rose above the general surface and
plainly showed itself. It, too, was round. It emerged. Upon its
surface shone two small pools of blue. It was a face. Even in the
grey, uncertain light this was beyond dispute. It was Maria's face.
Maria awoke. She looked about her calmly. Her mind, ever unclouded
because it thought of one thing only, took in the situation at a
glance. It was dawn, she was in bed and sleepy, it was not time to get
up. Dawn, sleep, bed and time belonged to her. There certainly was no
hurry.
The pools of blue then disappeared together, the smaller ball sank
down into the pillow to join the larger one, the lower portion that
had stretched itself drew in again, and a peaceful sigh informed the
universe that Maria intended to resume her interrupted slumbers. She
became once more a mere globular outline, self-contained, at rest.
But, in accepting life as it really was by lying down again, the
lesser ball had imperceptibly occupied a new position. Maria's head
had shifted. Her ear now pressed against another portion of the
pillow.
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