[The Story of a Child by Pierre Loti]@TWC D-Link bookThe Story of a Child CHAPTER XXXIV 9/9
Its day is done; and we shall never again, upon summer evenings, hear that call to prayers. Going to bed there was always a very enlivening proceeding, especially when there was the prospect of a whole Thursday of play before me.
I would, I am sure, have been very much afraid in the guest chamber, which was on the ground floor of the great, isolated house; but until my twelfth year I slept on the floor above, in the spacious room occupied by Lucette's mother;--with the aid of screens they had made for me a little room of my own.
In this retreat there was a book-case with glass doors that belonged to the time of Louis XIV; this was filled with treatises, a century old, upon navigation, and with sailors' log-books that had not been opened for a hundred years.
Tiny, scarce visible butterflies, that entered by the open windows, were to be found here all summer long, sleeping with extended wings upon the whitewashed walls. And often the most exciting incident of the day happened just as I was falling asleep; sometimes then an unwelcome bat found his way into the room and circled wildly about the lighted candles; or an enormous moth buzzed in and we would chase him with a cobweb-broom.
Or again a storm descended upon us and the great trees lashed their branches against the house, and the old shutters slammed back and forth, and we waked with a start..
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