Summary

Portrait of Walter De la Mare Walter De la Mare The Riddle and Other Stories — The Looking Glass (1923)

For certainly you are amused in a sort of fashion when any stranger you might suppose to be a little queer in the head proves perfectly harmless. Alice did not exactly like Sarah. But she could no more resist her advances, than the garden could resist the coming on of night.
Miss Lennox, too, it must be confessed, was a rather tedious and fretful companion for wits (like Alice's) always wool-gathering—wool, moreover, of the shimmering kind that decked the Golden Fleece.
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Portrait of Walter De la Mare Walter De la Mare The Riddle and Other Stories — The Looking Glass (1923)

There you sits, even if the snow itself comes sailing in on your face, and alone you must be, neither book nor candle, and the house behind you shut up black abed and asleep. But, there; you so wan and sickly a young lady. What ghost would come to you, I'd like to know. You want some fine dark loveyer for a ghost—that's your ghost. Oo-ay! There's not a want in the world but's dust and ashes. That's my bit of schooling.”
She gazed on impenetrably at Alice's slender fingers. And without raising her eyes she leaned her large hands on the wall, “Meself, Miss, meself's my ghost, as they say.
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Portrait of Walter De la Mare Walter De la Mare The Riddle and Other Stories — The Looking Glass (1923)

Sarah laughed for a full half-minute in silence, staring at Alice meanwhile. “'Patient'!” she replied at last, “Oo-ay. Nor to my knowledge did I ever breathe the contrary. As for staying; you'd stay all right if that loveyer of yours come along. You'd stand anything—them pale narrow-chested kind; though me, I'm neether to bend nor break. And if the old man was to look down out of the blue up there this very minute, ay, and shake his fist at me, I'd say it to his face. I loathe your whining psalm-singers. A trap's a trap. You wait and see!”
Source: Wikisource

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