author - "Charlotte Perkins Gilman"
Just us three. Maybe we can reallyfind something. May be cinnabar in it."
"May be indigo," Jeff suggested, with his lazy smile.
It was early yet; we had just breakfasted; and leaving wordthat we'd be back before night, we got away quietly, not wishingto be thought too gullible if we failed, and secretly hoping tohave some nice little discovery all to ourselves.
It was a long two hours, nearer three. I fancy the savage couldhave done it alone much quicker. There was a desperate tangleof wood and water and a swampy patch we never should havefound our way across alone. But there was one, and I could seeTerry, with compass and notebook, marking directions and tryingto place landmarks.
We came after a while to a sort of marshy lake, very big, sothat the circling forest looked quite low and dim across it. Ourguide told us that boats could go from there to our camp--but"long way--all day."
This water was somewhat clearer than that we had left, butwe could no
h easier than a baby, you see.
Of course I never mention it to them any more--I am too wise,--but I keep watch of it all the same.
There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will.
Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day.
It is always the same shape, only very numerous.
And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit. I wonder--I begin to think--I wish John would take me away from here!
It is so hard to talk with John about my case, because he is so wise, and because he loves me so.
But I tried it last night.
It was moonlight. The moon shines in all around just as the sun does.
I hate to see it sometimes, it creeps so slowly, and always comes in by one window or another.
John was asleep and I hated to waken him, so I kept still and watched the moonlight on that undulating wall-paper till I felt creepy.
The faint figure behind seemed to sh
Just us three. Maybe we can reallyfind something. May be cinnabar in it."
"May be indigo," Jeff suggested, with his lazy smile.
It was early yet; we had just breakfasted; and leaving wordthat we'd be back before night, we got away quietly, not wishingto be thought too gullible if we failed, and secretly hoping tohave some nice little discovery all to ourselves.
It was a long two hours, nearer three. I fancy the savage couldhave done it alone much quicker. There was a desperate tangleof wood and water and a swampy patch we never should havefound our way across alone. But there was one, and I could seeTerry, with compass and notebook, marking directions and tryingto place landmarks.
We came after a while to a sort of marshy lake, very big, sothat the circling forest looked quite low and dim across it. Ourguide told us that boats could go from there to our camp--but"long way--all day."
This water was somewhat clearer than that we had left, butwe could no
h easier than a baby, you see.
Of course I never mention it to them any more--I am too wise,--but I keep watch of it all the same.
There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will.
Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day.
It is always the same shape, only very numerous.
And it is like a woman stooping down and creeping about behind that pattern. I don't like it a bit. I wonder--I begin to think--I wish John would take me away from here!
It is so hard to talk with John about my case, because he is so wise, and because he loves me so.
But I tried it last night.
It was moonlight. The moon shines in all around just as the sun does.
I hate to see it sometimes, it creeps so slowly, and always comes in by one window or another.
John was asleep and I hated to waken him, so I kept still and watched the moonlight on that undulating wall-paper till I felt creepy.
The faint figure behind seemed to sh