It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. They either ran to see or ran for shelter. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. Anna came back into the sitting-room with a little sigh of relief. Wood as a play-room to the two boys; and, like most boy's playrooms, it exhibited a total absence of order, or neatness. “Lucy, this isn’t funny anymore.
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