E. Nesbit

E. Nesbit

Lucy (1909)

Summary

Portrait of E. Nesbit E. Nesbit,  Lucy (1909)

“ Perhaps even mamma would not love him any more when she knew that.
Peter, an old man now, sitting musing with the first diary in his hand, could draw you the plan of that garden, and tell you what flowers grew where—indicate the exact whereabouts and number of the old seakale pots that the snails loved to hide in—distinguish the taste of the different petals, of the vine-leaves, and of the unripe grapes, for, compared with "murder almost," stealing soon grew to seem nothing much, one way or the other. And eating is the first distraction that suggests itself to a child's boredom.
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of E. Nesbit E. Nesbit,  Lucy (1909)

“ She never talked much, but she was one of those people to whom one can tell everything. Peter told her more things than he had ever told anyone else. And different things. Things that he has never in all his life told to anyone else.
And gradually the grim, echoing house, and Jane and Jane's crinoline, and her gaily coloured spoon bonnets and her friends, and even meal-times, and going to bed, began to seem vague and dreamlike, and the only real thing in the world was Lucy.
”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of E. Nesbit E. Nesbit,  Lucy (1909)

“ Peter asked, who had always lived in the country and known everybody.
"Good gracious, no!" said Jane. "Her grandfather thinks there's no one good enough for her to play with. That's what's the matter with her, I think. Pining away like, for want of cheerful company, that's what I say."
Jane, Peter decided, was not likely to pine away for any such want. Shrieks of laughter came to him that afternoon in the hot, parched garden, through the bars of the kitchen window.
”
Source: Wikisource

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