Explore "The Last Lemurian: A Westralian Romance" by G. Firth Scott on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WHEN I awakened the sun was well up in the sky, but the Hatter, wrapped in his yellow robe, lay still sleeping. I crept over to his side and examined the quaint garment he was wearing.
It was a long loose cloak, more like a clergyman's surplice than a robe perhaps, and was made of a very fine metallic-looking thread closely woven. I took a piece between my fingers and examined it carefully, and while I was so doing he awakened.