A fantasy novel by George MacDonald

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130                             PHANTASTES:
in a part of the palace, the account of which, and of my adventures in connection with it, I must yet postpone for a little.
The library was a mighty hall, lighted from the roof, which was formed of something like glass, vaulted over in a single piece, and stained throughout with a great mysterious picture in gor­geous colouring. The walls were lined from floor to roof with books and books; most of them in ancient bindings, but some in strange new fashions which I had never seen, and which, were I to make the attempt, I could ill describe. All aroimd the walls, in front of the books, ran galleries in rows, communicating by stairs. These galleries were built of all kinds of coloured stones; all sorts of marble and granite, with porphyry, jasper, lapis lazuli, agate, and various others, were ranged in wonderful melody of successive colours. Although the material, then, of which these galleries and stairs were built, rendered necessary a certain degree of massiveness in the construction, yet such was the size of the place, that they seemed to run along the walls like cords. Over some parts of the library, descended curtains of silk of various dyes, none of which I ever saw lifted while I was there; and
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