in .

    t t o t s discovered my spying. It er. Surned into tairs and disappeared.

    I ran to trapped  quickly around a moten bolster from t it on t time to flee. I eps on tone flags, a dragging noise t rol can scraping on t as I stepped back into one of the library bays.

    ly, don’t cry noo my body so  miss t.

    Back at t  it appeared not. S  sed?

    tirred, a jerk of tensing of e backbone t is so often to a tled   cry. ease don’t cry. ill again, and I ched.

    My books. On t pass  opening at random, for to see t looked all  t so read—

    Sore out pages by tful. Stered to to loose balls. Fast! S little volumes, suddenly a paper mountain. to t! I ed to cry out, but iful  and crumpled up, and I, in the shadows, speechless.

    S onto top of te blanket in times I curn from to til torn-up books. Jane Eyre, uts, te… Balls of paper toppled from t of t, joining t se.

    One came to a stop at my feet, and silently I dropped doo retrieve it.

    Orageous sensation of crumpled paper; ions, senseless. My  broke.

    Anger s me up; it carried me like a piece of flotsam, unable to see or breat roared like an ocean in my  , leaped like a mad truck  I reasure in my arms, and so I stood by and crembling, ed treasure t was mine.

    At last sisfied  , tain in tself. It’s all upside do’ll never lig t ttom. But even if s it properly, it ain matcill s acended victim, est madness of all: Supposing I  been to stop  rescued t and s burning er’s core er