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He remembered the dusk upon the Crayfield lawns. 'Of course I know a Star Cave, he said at length, when Jimbo had finished his recitation, and Monkey had added the details their father had told them. 'I know the very one your Daddy spoke about. It's not far from where we're sitting.

'My thoughts and longings, awakened that night in the little Crayfield garden, he summed it up to himself, having read the Report so far, 'went forth upon their journey of realisation. I projected them according to Minks vividly enough for that! I thought Beauty and this glorious result materialised!

After so many years of application to business he had earned it. Crayfield, it seemed, had given him a taste for sentimental journeys. But the fact was, too, the Tramp, the Dustman, the Lamplighter, and the Starlight Express were all in his thoughts still. And it was spring. He felt this sudden desire to see his cousin again, and make the acquaintance of his cousin's children.

'The important things of life are very few really. They stand out vividly here. You've both vegetated, fossilised, atrophied a bit. I discovered it in my own case when I went back to Crayfield and

'And, by the by, Minks, said his master, turning as though a new idea had suddenly struck him and he had formed a hasty plan, 'you might kindly look up an afternoon train to Crayfield. Loop line from Charing Cross, you know. Somewhere about two o'clock or so. I have to er I think I'll run down that way after luncheon.

This was youth and boyhood strong upon him, the moods of Crayfield that he had set long ago on one side deliberately. The mood that wrote the Song of the Blue Eyes had returned, waking after a sleep of a quarter of a century. 'What rubbish! he exclaimed; 'I shall be an author next! He tore it up and, rolling the pieces into a ball, played catch with it. 'What waste of energy!

And, truth to tell, he never yet has read it; for, returning late that evening from his sentimental journey down to Crayfield, it stood no longer where he had left it beside the clock, and nothing occurred to remind him of its existence.

Rogers smiled to himself, moving away from the window where the sunshine grew too fierce for comfort. What a funny business it all was, to be sure! And how curiously every one's thinking had intermingled! The children had somehow divined his own imaginings in that Crayfield garden; their father had stolen the lot for his story. It was most extraordinary.

And then he remembered Minks, and all his lunatic theories about thought and thought-pictures. The garden scene at Crayfield came back vividly, the one at Charing Cross, in the orchard, too, with the old Vicar, when they had talked beneath the stars. Who among them all was the original sponsor? And which of them had set the ball a-rolling?

It was like a scene of my childhood Crayfield or somewhere. And he reflected how easily one might be persuaded that the spirit escaped in sleep and knew another order of experience. The sense of actuality was so vivid. He lay half dozing for a little longer, hoping to recover the adventures. The flying train showed itself once or twice again, but smaller, and much, much farther away.