A fantasy novel by George MacDonald

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her features, and especially the heaviness of her eye­brows, a something unusual—I could hardly call it grace, and yet it was an expression that strangely contrasted with the form of her features. I noticed too that her hands were delicately formed, though brown with work and exposure.
" I should be ill," she continued, " if I did not live on the borders of the fairies' country, and now and then eat of their food. And I see by your eyes that you are not quite free of the same need; though, from your education and the activity of your mind, you have felt it less that I. You may be further re­moved too from the fairy race."
I remembered what the lady had said about my grandmothers.
Here she placed some bread and some milk before me, with a kindly apology for the homeliness of the fare, with which, however, I was in no humour to quarrel. I now thought it time to try to get some explanation of the strange words both of her daughter and herself.
" What did you mean by speaking so about the Ash ? "
She rose and looked out of the little window. My eyes followed her; but as the window was too
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