It was more beautiful than anything Paul had ever seen; it was bigger than many churches put together; the word "Palace" came into his head--it transcended all his preconceived ideas of palaces: yet in such a palace only could dwell the radiant and sweet-smelling lady of his dream.

The certainty gave him a curious satisfaction.
They arrived at the spot where the marquees were erected, and at once began the traditional routine of the school treat-games for the girls, manlier sports for the boys.

Lord Chudley, patron of the living of St.
Luke's, Bludston, and Lord Bountiful of the feast, had provided swing-boats and a merry-go-round which discoursed infernal music to enraptured ears.

Paul stood aloof for a while from these delights, his eye on the section of the girls among whom his goddess moved.

As soon as she became detached and he could approach her without attracting notice, he crept within the magic circle of the scent and lay down prone, drinking in its intoxication, and, as she moved, he wriggled toward her on his stomach like a young snake.
After a time she came near him.