- Do not worry. We ourselves can. You also did a lot for us.
...
Old lady Alice Liddell, slept in armchair, sitting in the hallway.
- Something Elizabeth long not seen? - She asked Gerry Llane, passing into another room.
Helper put a flower pot on the table, returned and wiped her hands with a wet rag.
- What?
- I ask you where my granddaughter can be now.
- How do I know?! Your girl doesn't tell me anything about her business, as free wind in field.
- Oh, my goodness!
- Well, me, this, go? Kettle set or not?
- Go, Gerry!
- Thank you, Mrs. Alice.
This happened in an intermediate state, between sleep and awakening. Passed by professor of English Literature, Amanda Redham. She hurried to work, was late; when she turned the corner, then noticed my distance suit in the distance. Coming closer, the woman pulled out from the inside pockets of the jacket the smart phone, looked at the display, and began to lead me into reality, assist.
An hour passed before the car, which belonged to the security service, reached the point. In this condition, I was taken to a hospital to reduce pain, warming, recovery.
One could say that I was found, and nothing more. This ended the miraculous, but painful journey into the mysterious world of sleep. More or less, the doctors put the patient's health in order, now they were waiting for the moment to write out. When my mother, Emma Roide, called the reception of the city hospital, a nurse Evelyn Wall asked her not to worry, because everything is fine, and gave the address of the building, as well as she said the day she could see me.
In the same place where I was, there was another person, they did not tell me about him. I tried to explain that no Patrick Earrle could be near me. He also went to Oxford University. I saw him jump out of the window, having previously quarreled with his professor because of a misunderstood decision. In addition to these details later it is said that Mr. Toyland, the guy’s employer, could not bear such a shock, since he was a great helper.
In general terms, it should be noted: the danger has passed, the recovery was successful, patients successfully returned to their former state. London Hospital Chief Physician Karlos Schilt signed the statement of discharge. It is recommended that children be strictly limited to suspicious things, news, objects. It turned out that Patrick Earrle came out of the same coma the day that I, he came home.
Eighth chapter.
- What do you think when you look in the mirror? - asked Emma Roide.
Mom and I stood in the room. The silence that surrounded them was so calm that you could think about anything. If you open the window, go to the balcony, the songs of the birds immediately came from everywhere. One breath of spring - and you are immersed in a wonderful atmosphere: from the roof to the west snow is dripping to the side of the house, the trees are picking up the green color for the leaves, the creek in the distance carries boats of local children...
- I'm dreaming. There remained those who treated me well. And here you are, Mom, and Dad, and Patrick, and the rest of the people. I'm much better here ... - I answered with joy in voice.
- Do you know how that world seems to me?
- Not. Probably more beautiful than what I saw?
- It’s like a fairy tale that I accidentally watched on television... - I do not remember the title.
- You also do not want to think about it?
- In reality, much more interesting. Grandmother told me. Is it good to wander among ghosts? No!
We went to the second floor to remove the extra decorations after the holiday. The next day I went to college. Dean of the Faculty of Journalism, Wallace Schneik distributed to all students present in the office, little book-invitations. On the booklet, which was in my hand, it was printed: “Love art? The gallery presents of paintings collection and sculptures of English ballerina and decorator Cheryl Style (1907-1978)”.
Professor of Art, Lewis Sheggington conducted an excursion with third-year students Oxford University.
- Picture "Portrait of a bearded man in a wide-brimmed hat" was created by Rembrandt van Rhine in 1633 (Sixteenth and thirty-third) year.
- It is necessary to write for the article (the newspaper “Los Angeles Times”).
- Of course, Elizabeth.
- Thank you, professor.
But at the most unexpected moment there was a nightmare - one after another of the 17-Eighteenth century paintings were began to turn into monsters. Professor Sheggington told everyone to go to the exit, close the doors in all rooms. Fiona Waterloo through the characters in reality sent messages. I received signals, took two steps to the wall, and went over that side of the mirror. The decor shone with light, invisible to visitors.
Patrick Earrle saw that I had disappeared behind a haze changing color, and ran after me. Here is not too cold, if you go half the way, you can detect the melting of the snow. Spring comes every time, and no interference can prevent it.
The road that led to the palace resembled that field. The plants, like the figures, were black and white. I saw someone coming out from behind the wall. Someone turned out to be Mr. Sheggington.
- You scared me! - She said. - How did you get here?
- I was told that you can help us... - he said.
At this point, professor became lower and took the form of a voluminous oval. I was in a small stop, but soon recovered. Recovering, I asked a question.
- What happened?
- Elizabeth, everything is much worse than before.
- So what can I do?
- You are the only one who has a pendant. He is your defense, but he will also let her open the portal to other worlds. I'll hold you in secret.
I walked after Sheggington until I saw the gate and the stone walls of the palace. Those who stayed after Fiona Waterloo, settled in strange places. But no one examined the tower. Of windows of the highest tower on the terrain looked Christopher Alzberg, a man who escaped from your thoughts in the astral world. The mask he wore was velvet red, and preferring to look weird, never took off. Perhaps, for him everything was something like a masquerade performance with a variety of acts, with actions that took place alternately - one after another.
Nineth chapter.
I thought about something, and turning away, continued to run for the conductor. The gates opened like that as if they were sliding, and when the guests entered the courtyard, the doors closed automatically. Toward with open arms from the side of the building came the weeping Amanda Redhem, and Agatha Shelter - slowly approached, cautiously looking around.
- Hello!
- Good afternoon, Eliza.
- How did you get older in these two years?!
- I wouldn’t say so, we could have happy moments if Fiona Waterloo wouldn’t returned with friends. We won last time.
- As one wise man once said, - “You have to pay for happiness”.
- But not in the same way. Apparently, we have different ideas about being?
- From loneliness, she chose to return to us. However, we are friendly, did not nothing to say about the conditions.
- You see the result.
- Noticed.
I sometimes visited tenants, when I offered to bring the tea, but I never had a serious answer, waited. The closed room did not open, no matter how many steps were taken. If anyone could save or help on the other side of the mirror, then I would manage to get out gradually.
Christopher Alzberg, the legendary criminal, decided to find out, who came to the house. When I was in charge of writing poems, a freaky man went down the stairs to the living room, looked around the scenery, and said he liked the style. Fiona greed with his opinion.