Explore "The Last Lemurian: A Westralian Romance" by G. Firth Scott on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WE had finished our evening meal and sat, one on either side of the wide open chimney up which the flames from the burning logs flared and danced. There was light enough for us to see the smoke from our pipes, and while the Hatter fulfilled his promise and told me all that had happened to him since he disappeared that night in Adelaide, I sat quiet, smoking and listening.
"I did not care to tell you about it at first," he said. "It seemed too ridiculous for me to believe, let alone any one else. But it mastered me; it mastered me."