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clumps of trees stood out like islands in a milky sea, so sharply
denned was the upper surface of the mistbank. He came nearer and
nearer to a strange thing that floated like a boat upon this magic
lake, and behold! something moved at the stern and a rope was whisked
at the prow, and it had changed into a pensive cow, drowsy-eyed,
regarding him....
He saw a remarkable sunset in a new valley near Maidstone, a very red
and clear sunset, a wide redness under a pale cloudless heaven, and
with the hills all round the edge of the sky a deep purple blue and
clear and flat, looking exactly as he had seen mountains painted in
pictures. He seemed transported to some strange country, and would
have felt no surprise if the old labourer he came upon leaning
silently over a gate had addressed him in an unfamiliar tongue....
Then one night, just towards dawn, his sleep upon a pile of brushwood
was broken by the distant rattle of a racing motor car breaking all
the speed regulations, and as he could not sleep again, he got up and
walked into Maidstone as the day came. He had never been abroad in a
town at half-past two in his life before, and the stillness of
everything in the bright sunrise impressed him profoundly. At one
corner was a startling policeman, standing in a doorway quite
motionless, like a waxen image. Mr. Polly wished him "good morning"
unanswered, and went down to the bridge over the Medway and sat on the
parapet very still and thoughtful, watching the town awaken, and
wondering what he should do if it didn't, if the world of men never
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