It was all highly intriguing. And for me there is only one treasure-house. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. Even there a woman never gets a fair chance. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you.
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