Explore "The Incomplete Amorist" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It seemed quite dark down in the forest -- or rather, it seemed, after the full good light that lay upon the summit of the rocks, like the gray dream-twilight under the eyelids of one who dozes in face of a dying fire.
"Don't let's go straight back to Grez," said Betty when the pony was harnessed, "let's go on to Fontainebleau and have dinner and drive back by moonlight. Don't you think it would be fun? We've never done that."