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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"


Henry was forced to leave the cab, and then found himself outside the
little people's cinema, where he had once been with Vera and myself.
He knew that my rooms were not far away, and he started off beside the
white and silent canal, wondering why he had come, and wishing he were
back in bed.
There was still a great deal of the baby in Henry, and ghosts and giants
and scaly-headed monsters were not incredibilities to his young
imagination. As he left the main thoroughfare and turned down past the
widening docks, he suddenly knew that he was terrified. There had been
stories of wild attacks on rich strangers, sand-bagging and the rest,
often enough, but it was not of that kind of thing that he was afraid.
He told me afterwards that he expected to see "long thick crawling
creatures" creeping towards him over the ice. He continually turned
round to see whether some one were following him. When he crossed the
tumbledown bridge that led to my island it seemed that he was absolutely
alone in the whole world. The masts of the ships dim through the cold
mist were like tangled spiders' webs. A strange hard red moon peered
over the towers and chimneys of the distant dockyard.


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