When it was over, and we came out from behind the stack and walked home through the fields, all the beasts looked at us as if we were new and had never been seen before; and the air was ever so sweet, and that long, red line of cloud low down in the purple, and the elm-trees so heavy and almost black.

He put his arm round me, and I let him....

It seems an age to wait till they come to stay with us next week.

If only Mother likes them, and I can go and stay at Joyfields.
Will she like them?
It's all so different to what it would be if they were ordinary.

But if he were ordinary I shouldn't love him; it's because there's nobody like him.