Strange mounted the stairs to his library on the first floor andwent immediately to the great silver dish that stood upon one of the tables. The following morning he awoke determined to return to the King'sRoads. ot hurtus any more! He attempted a triumphant laugh, but it turned into a fit ofcoughing and retching. A few odd items were scattered about the floor, a kind of magicaldebris: some pieces of paper with scraps of s
At the river's edge he knelt down among the frozen grasses to fill the dishwith water. Man, he said, you are white as a milk pudding andshivering fit to break yourself in pieces! I am cold, said the new manservant. Mr Strange knows what he isdoing. Was the magic difficult? No, not really.
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