Читать книгу The Complete Works of Algernon Blackwood. Novels, Short Stories, Horror Classics, Occult & Supernatural Tales, Plays онлайн

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'If only I had children of my own. . .!' it called; and the echo whispered afterwards 'of my very own, made out of my very thoughts. . . .!'

He turned to Nixie who had followed, and now leaned beside him on the window-sill.

'So the language of wind and trees and water you translate afterwards into stories, do you?' he asked, taking up the conversation where they had left it. It was hardly a question; he was musing aloud as he gazed out into the mists that gathered with the dusk. 'It's all silent enough now, at any rate there's not a breath of air moving. The trees are dreaming—dreaming perhaps of the Dance of the Winds, or of the love-making of the snow when their leaves are gone and the flakes settle softly on the bare twigs; or perhaps dreaming of the humming of the sap that brings their new clothes with such 'a rush of glory and wonder in the spring' Again the child looked up into his face with shining eyes. The magic of her little treasured beliefs had touched the depths of him, and she felt that they were in the same world together, without pretence and without the barriers of age. She was radiantly happy, and rather wonderful into the bargain, a fairy if ever there was one.