'
She turned to Curdie and smiled.
'Ma'am,' said Curdie, 'may I ask questions?'
'Why not, Curdie?'
'Because I have been told, ma'am, that nobody must ask the king
questions.'
'The king never made that law,' she answered, with some
displeasure. 'You may ask me as many as you please - that is, so
long as they are sensible. Only I may take a few thousand years to
answer some of them. But that's nothing. Of all things time is
the cheapest.'
'Then would you mind telling me now, ma'am, for I feel very
confused about it - are you the Lady of the Silver Moon?'
'Yes, Curdie; you may call me that if you like. What it means is
true.'
'And now I see you dark, and clothed in green, and the mother of
all the light that dwells in the stones of the earth! And up there
they call you Old Mother Wotherwop! And the Princess Irene told me
you were her great-great-grandmother! And you spin the spider
threads, and take care of a whole people of pigeons; and you are
worn to a pale shadow with old age; and are as young as anybody can
be, not to be too young; and as strong, I do believe, as I am.'
The lady stooped toward a large green stone bedded in the rock of
the floor, and looking like a well of grassy light in it. She laid
hold of it with her fingers, broke it out, and gave it to Peter.
'There!' cried Curdie. 'I told you so.
Pages:
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65