The doors of these houses were very low, like the doors of dog-kennels.
The ground between them was not paths or streets, but just yellow sand trampled very hard and smooth.
In the middle of the village there was a hedge that enclosed what seemed to be a piece of ground about as big as their own garden in Camden Town.
No sooner were the children well within the inner thorn hedge than dozens of men and women and children came crowding round from behind and inside the huts.
The girl stood protectingly in front of the four children, and said-- 'They are wonder-children from beyond the desert.

They bring marvellous gifts, and I have said that it is peace between us and them.' She held out her arm with the Lowther Arcade bangle on it.
The children from London, where nothing now surprises anyone, had never before seen so many people look so astonished.
They crowded round the children, touching their clothes, their shoes, the buttons on the boys' jackets, and the coral of the girls' necklaces.
'Do say something,' whispered Anthea.
'We come,' said Cyril, with some dim remembrance of a dreadful day when he had had to wait in an outer office while his father interviewed a solicitor, and there had been nothing to read but the Daily Telegraph--'we come from the world where the sun never sets.

And peace with honour is what we want.

We are the great Anglo-Saxon or conquering race.

Not that we want to conquer YOU,' he added hastily.