“No, I am not brave at all; I am newly very timid. I am frightened of the real world now, and feel only at my ease with shadows.”
“Shall we journey into shadow-land?” Evander asked.
“By what path?” Brilliana questioned. Evander touched a brown, torn book.
“Shall we read again in Master Shakespeare’s book?”
For indeed they had read much in his pages that morning. Brilliana looked pleased.
“Yes, indeed. Let us go into my paradise.”
She looked into the garden and came back with a shiver.
“Ah, no, it is raining. It rained when the King raised his standard at Nottingham. Well, well, we can read here.”
Evander was turning the leaves.
“What shall we read? Comedy, history, tragedy?”