Explore "Memoirs of a Midget" by Walter de la Mare on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I stumbled off, feeling smaller and smaller as I went, more and more ridiculous and insignificant, as indeed I must have appeared; for distance can hardly lend enchantment to any view of me. Not one single look did I cast behind; but now that my feelings began to quiet down, I began also to think. And a pretty muddle of mind it was. What had enraged and embittered me so? If only I had remained calm. Was it that my pride, my vanity, had in some vague fashion been a punishment of him for Fanny's unkindness to me?
"But he stole, he stole my letter," I said aloud, stamping my foot on a budding violet; and -- there was Mrs. Bowater. Evidently she had been watching my approach, and now smiled benignly.